Forgotten--A TFP Fan Fiction--Part One: Mysterious
by BBPRIMEFAN101
Summary: A young, timid femme with an unnatural talent is found half-dead in an escape pod in the Florida swamps and is discovered by Team Prime and meets an Autobot she has not seen what felt like forever. But then she discovers he doesn't remember her at all.
1. Pt 1: Discovery

"**Forgotten"—A TFP Fan Fiction**

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><p><strong>Summary: The Autobots discover a wounded femme in a strange escape pod<br>**

**Rated: M overall for violence, some future gore, and sexual content.**

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><p><em><strong>**This chapter is rated T for sensitive material**<strong>_

**Transformers characters © Hasbro**

**Gira © Me**

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><p><strong><span>PART ONE: MYSTERIOUS<span>  
><strong>

_Three patrol officers guarded each hall. One stayed by the entrance to be sure no one enters nor leaves, and the other two journey repeatedly up and down the wide, dim-lit path, checking in each holding cell. The guards had to be strong, both physically and mentally, for the screams and words of the subjects within each cell can often cause them to test their judgment and loyalty to the Boss. Some halls were louder than others. _

_The Blood Hall was never silent. It was the third hall on the top level within the ship, where subjects F through J resided. The most witted of the guards patrolled this hall. It had an eternally sick cloud hanging over it, where these subjects' screams can be heard through the sound-proof doors. The guards had to be extra careful patrolling this part of the fifth level, for it was almost as though they could feel the subjects' feelings through their endless howls._

"_But why do they call it the 'Blood Hall'?" asked one of the patrol officers as he and the other headed slowly down the hall, keeping their blasters armed in any case they needed to be used._

"_I hear it's because the subjects in here did the most unusual or the numerous amount of murders," replied the other, "spilling the blood, or any kind of fluid, of their own kind. Like this fellow." He nudged one cell with his weapon. A four-eyed, seven-tentacle, fanged creature perked up and shone its wide, black eyes, turned its attention towards the guards and suddenly cowered in the furthest corner of its holding cell. "Subject F-6. He used to be a scientist back on his home world. He suddenly went mad due to some chronic virus he infected himself with. He grew three more legs, two more eyes and his teeth narrowed and elongated, becoming the savage you see before you." Subject F-6 wailed. "He started sucking the fluids from his own kin, infecting them with the virus as well until the entire planet was plagued. With no fresh fluids to absorb, they all starved and perished. He, here, is the very last one."_

"_Oh...that must feel pretty lonely," the first guard said mournfully. "But of course, he didn't intend to do such slaughter. The virus made him this way."_

_The other guard yanked him away from the cell. "Listen to yourself! If you let yourself surrender to pity, you'll end up feeling sorry for them and sense they want freedom and may even open their cells. Then they'll all fight each other just to get to you!"_

"_Why would they want to get to me?"_

"_To kill ya! Rip your limbs clean off, tear at every circuit and fiber in your body and suck ya dry, that's why!" The first guard shivered at the thought of himself being torn to bits, and a sick feeling roiled in his stomach. "All these beings are mindless savages. They've no hope now."_

_The two continued down the hall when the second guard spoke up again. "Well...not _all _of the subjects here are mindless."_

"_Oh?" said the first._

"_Yes. Just like not every cell here is filled with moans and screams."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_The crew keep spreading rumors of how this particular hall is filled with so many screams that they can be heard through the sound-proof doors...And although we can, not every single subject makes a sound in here," explained the second guard._

_He stopped in front of one cell. "Mainly this one."_

"_Who's in there?"_

"_Subject G-1."_

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><p>~Bumblebee's POV~<p>

It started out as a typical Saturday afternoon back at headquarters. Arcee went out for a drive, Jack was on the laptop messing around on that conspiracy website a lot of photos of me are uploaded, Miko and Bulkhead were watching monster truck rallies, and I was watching Raf race his miniature race car. Meanwhile, Optimus Prime and Ratchet conversed by the monitor, trying to figure out the reason why Megatron, or any Decepticon, hasn't appeared on the screen for the last few days.

The Decepticons have been quiet lately; I guess that's good and bad. Good because we won't have to worry about losing one another, and bad because we have no idea what they could be planning for their next attack. I mean, it's not the first time Decepticons have laid low, but it still raised worry and suspicion. Especially, and understandably, for Optimus Prime.

I can always see the worry on his face, despite his excellence in hiding his emotions. Even now, looking at him, I see it. He is a very strong leader who is respected, feared, hated, and loved. He hardly ever lets his emotions show, even for an instant. I can understand that being a Prime can actually be very difficult; it's difficult sometimes for me to be a scout. But with being a Prime, you had to set a good example for those around you. You had to be an immovable stone in the face of a raging river. You could never falter, for one mistake could cost an ally their life. And we all know he's done exquisitely well in protecting us; aside from Cliffjumper, who perished by Starscream's hand. But I can't help but feel Optimus still takes responsibility for Cliff's death. The way it usually goes, when a team member perishes, the leader is at fault, but no one believes Prime is responsible. He never openly claimed responsibility, but I guess he doesn't need to. I heard Raf speak to me and took my attention away from Optimus to my human companion.

That's when Jack got our attention. "Guys!" he exclaimed. "Check this out!" He pulled up a photo on the main monitor, and we were all astonished at what we were shown. "I think it could be another escape pod."

Now, normally, one would think we were getting excited over nothing, but seeing a pod always raised our hopes of gaining a new ally. From the photo, it appeared to be nothing more than a meteorite entering the Earth's atmosphere, but when Ratchet zoomed in on the photo, we could distinctly see the shape of a pod.

"Autobot or Decepticon?" asked Arcee.

"From the photo's resolution, we cannot tell," Ratchet said. "We'll need to examine it to be certain."

Raf examined the area within the photo. "That's a lot of swamp. Those are the Everglades in southern Florida! The pod must've crashed in the swamp."

"How long ago was the photo taken?" Ratchet asked Jack.

"Uh, a few hours ago," Jack answered. "Knowing how barren the Everglades are, I'm sure it'll still be there."

"Ratchet," said Optimus, "lock onto the coordinates and activate the ground bridge." Ratchet did so and powered up the bridge.

"Just be careful," said Miko, "there are lots of gators and snakes in the swamp!"

"We will be just fine," Optimus informed her as we all stood in front of the bridge. "Autobots, roll out!" We all raced through the portal and landed in a wet, mossy, humid terrain.

Looking around, all I can see is water, tall grass, muck, and more water. The sky was a soft, bluish purple with a tint of orange and pink; the sun was setting, and the stars were coming out. The sound of buzzing, croaking and chirping filled our audio receptors; it was both peaceful and annoying. The insects known as 'dragonflies' constantly buzzed by my face. The feeling of muck underneath my feet wasn't very pleasant, but it beats walking over the fallen remains of your comrades.

"Be sure to watch where you step, Autobots," Optimus said.

"Don't have to tell me twice," Bulkhead groaned as he lifted his foot, which was covered in muck. "Ugh!" I can't help but laugh a little as we journeyed towards the part of the Everglades the pod had landed.

Along the way, I noticed several, glowing eyes looking at us, and scaly bodies would emerge from beneath the muddy water. Some had thick bodies with muscular limbs and powerful jaws filled with massive teeth. Others had no limbs and were just a long muscular body with wide heads. These creatures must be the gators and snakes Miko spoke of. The hard part was deciding which was the snake and which was the gator.

After a long walk through the marshes, we noticed a rag in the grass and muck that lead to a swampy forest nearby; several trees were pushed aside, s though something had plowed through them. "You think it leads to the pod?" asked Arcee (and I am fairly surprised she isn't bothered by her surroundings).

Optimus checked the tracks then looked onward towards the forest. Getting to his feet, he headed in that direction and we followed. Luckily the muck wasn't as wet and slimy. Stepping over some of the fallen trees, we journeyed deeper into the forest until the tracks came to an end. We realized we had entered a clearing, and there at the end of the trail was the pod.

We were all baffled at what we were looking at. "Uh...Autobot, or Decepticon?" Bulkhead asked.

I watched Optimus narrow his optics. "Neither," was his reply. I concurred with him; the pod appeared to be made of pure steel, not Cybertronian metal. From the tip to the tail, it was covered in dents and dings. It must've taken serious damage throughout its journey. It must've entered a meteor cluster and got struck repeatedly. It was an awfully large escape pod, large enough to fit the entire team aboard. Outwardly, it appeared to be nothing more than a capsule with strange markings that ran along the side. None of us knew what they meant, leaving us unable to say where the pod came from. Optimus approached it, caution and curiosity shining in his optics. I can see he's very intrigued by this discovery, but he kept his fascination at a down-low so none of us could see it. He rested a hand on the surface and pulled it away. "The pod is still giving off heat," he said. "It has only been offline for a short time period."

"_Do you think someone could be inside?" _I asked, but to my comrades' audio receptors, they only hear buzzes and bleeps, but I'm pleased to know they can understand me easily.

"Only one way to find out," said Arcee.

Optimus signaled up stand back and searched for the hatch; once it was found, he pulled it open. A loud hiss was heard as steam erupted from within. From what I could see, the steam didn't come from any damage, no doubt the air inside the pod reacting with the Earth's oxygen. Once the smoke cleared, Optimus leaned in slightly to get a closer look. We watched him step into the pod, and what he carried out and held in is arms when he returned shocked us all.

~Optimus's POV~

I cannot hide that I was anxious to know what could be inside this strange escape pod. The fact that its origin remains unknown to us all and the strange inscriptions embedded into the metal only peaked my interest.

As I approached the pod, I held my hand back, signaling my teammates to stay where they are in case anything unexpected were to happen. Once I found the crease to where the hatch lined up with the wall of the pod, I gripped onto it tightly and tore it away. Steam hissed and poured out of the pod; my first intention was that there was a system malfunction, but from what I can see as the smoke dissipates, everything seemed in perfect order.

Cautiously looking around inside, I can say that the pod was safe to enter. Stepping inside and checking my surroundings as I ventured deeper into the somewhat large escape pod, I neither saw nor sensed any life forms. I then decided to check the cock pit. Making my way towards the front of the vessel, I noticed the cabin door was slightly ajar. Carefully nudging it open, I entered the cock pit, where two chairs faced the glass shield. I checked one chair and found it empty, then I checked the other.

That's when I froze.

There, sitting in the pilot's seat, was a very small femme, slumped down and unconscious. Her armor was or a light, Energon-blue, pink and a gold color of some sort. She had a patch over her left optic. Examining the rest of her body, I noticed she had several wounds across her abdomen, her helm, back, arms and legs; thankfully, none appeared life threatening. Her body is coated in Energon. Most likely from heavy leakage due to her injuries. Examining her further, I came to discover, like the pod, she is neither Autobot nor Decepticon, for she bore no insignia. But I can say for certainty she is Cybertronian.

I needed to get this femme out of here. Very carefully, I wrapped my arms around her and cradled her. She felt very cold to the touch, meaning her pulse rating was faint. She needs medical attention and fast. In a slow, yet hurried pace, I headed back to where I first entered the pod and stepped out. My Autobots seemed surprised at what laid limp in my arms.

"Is that the only survivor?" asked Arcee.

"This femme was the only passenger on board," I replied.

"The only one?!" Bulkhead exclaimed. "That's an awful lot of pod for just one femme. But just who is she anyway?"

The longer my teammates spoke, the colder I can feel this femme's body become. I needed to get her to Ratchet. "Save your questions for another time, Autobots. We need to get this femme treated or she will perish." I activated my comm. link and messaged Ratchet to open up the ground bridge. Within a matter of seconds, one appeared.

"_What about the escape pod?" _Bumblebee asked.

"The pod is much too large to fit through the bridge," I replied. "We have no choice but to leave it here. The humans will think of a way to dispose of it."

"_Dispose_?" said Bulkhead. "Shouldn't we at least let Ratchet take a look at it, see if he knows where it came from?"

I sighed. There was absolutely no time for this. "Autobots, move the pod out of the clearing and into the forest. We will decide on what to do with it later. I need to get this femme to Ratchet, now." And with that, I entered the bridge, leaving my teammates in the clearing, and stepping foot into our base.

Ratchet had the same expression on his face as the others when he first laid eyes on the femme I carried.

~Ratchet's POV~

When I had received Optimus's request for a bridge, I did have a hunch that they would return with something. Hopefully a survivor. I just never expected a survivor this small. But I was shocked for other reasons.

I can see the young femme needed immediate treatment and told Optimus to lay her down in the sickbay. I positioned her to where she'd be comfortable, even when unconscious, and did a brief examination. "I need to clean this Energon off of her body so I can see how serious these wounds are," I said.

Optimus was courteous enough to find me a bucket and wash rag. I gingerly scrubbed away the dried up Energon, revealing the wounds they covered. They're mainly minor cuts and singes; the most serious injuries were to her abdomen, where a large gash stretched from one side of her body to the other, and the back of her helm, as if she took a heavy blow. I figured it was caused by the crash. I know it'd be best if I put her in stasis so there would be no interruptions during her recuperation, so I did just that.

"So, is she the only one you could find?" I asked Prime.

"She was the only one aboard the escape pod," Optimus informed, and I nodded. "Will she be alright?"

"Her fuel reserves are at a critical low, causing her spark rate to deteriorate, but once I get fresh Energon pumping through her systems and she has plenty of rest, she should be fine when she awakens. Where are the others?"

"They are keeping the pod hidden from sight by hiding it in the forest. The pod itself is of unknown origin, we do not know where it came from."

This was most intriguing, indeed. A faction-less Cybertronian femme aboard a mysterious escape pod...Oh how it raises suspicion and the questions build up.

Bulkhead, Arcee and Bumblebee entered the base. "We've successfully stashed the pod, sir," said Arcee.

"Excellent." Optimus looked down to me. "Whenever you get the chance, old friend, I would like you to examine the pod to see what information you can pick up from it."

"I'll do my best, Optimus," I replied, "but I'd like to wait and see what the femme has to say when she emerges from stasis, such as where she first came from?"

"Aren't you also curious about who she is?" asked Bulkhead.

I turned to them and glared. "And just _look _at the mess you three are in! You're tracking mud and water into the base—and whatever that is on your leg, Bulkhead!"

That thing, I'd been told once, was known as a leech, and the second Bulkhead laid his optics upon it he flipped out and panicked. "Now, you lot get yourselves cleaned up! You, too, Optimus. I want you all _spotless _by the time you get back!"

Thankfully, they headed for the wash racks without question, leaving me alone with the young femme. I inserted an IV, allowing pure Energon to begin flowing through her starving body. I checked her vitals every once in a while, and each time I checked, they became more and more stable.

Once her systems have normalized, I sat her up in a comfortable position so when she awoke, she didn't have such a hard time trying to sit up. I wore a sad smile and shake my head. "Now, what are you doing all the way out here, young one?" I said in a whisper, resting my hand over hers.

~Optimus's POV~

I decided that I will watch over our new young friend through the night. Ratchet argued with me saying he should watch her, but I managed to persuade him in letting me take over. Sitting myself on the berth beside the femme's, I keep a constant surveillance. Her vitals remained normal, and the only movement I noticed was her foot slightly twitching.

From where I sit, I watched her chest slowly rise and fall. She appeared so peaceful asleep. I, myself, have many questions for her, but the last thing I want to do is pressure her with them. She had just arrived, after all. I felt a growing compassion toward the femme spread throughout my spark, and yet I do not even know her. Well, that shouldn't seem surprising. I usually show compassion and concern towards any lost or injured life forms, especially towards young femmes and children. But this femme...I can feel she needed it most.

Reaching out slowly, I rest a hand on her shoulder; her core temperature is much warmer than it was when I found her. That is a good sign. Ratchet did an excellent job in treating her injuries. I have confidence she will be just fine when she awakens. Hopefully she won't be too startled by waking in a completely different place.

I suddenly feel the need for sleep overwhelm me; I've become exhausted just by watching this femme rest. But I know I must remain active in case there are any sudden changes in her vital signs, or if she awakens early. Any other possible situation, I need to be awake for when it happens.

~Arcee's POV~

I kept myself hidden from Optimus's sight, watching him looking out for the femme laying in the sickbay. I can't help but frown as I look at her; I can tell just by looking at her, she was strange. A Cybertronian, neither Autobot nor Decepticon, in a bizarre pod of unknown origin. Wherever she came from, how she got there, and how she found her way to Earth are my main interests, aside from who the heck she is. I am certain many secrets are hidden behind that patch of hers.

I'll be honest, I thought for sure she was offline when Optimus carried her out of the pod. She had taken serious damage to critical parts of her body. She's lucky to still be functioning, even though she's currently in stasis and is barely moving at all. Despite her small size and timid appearance, I did have a slight caution towards her. Wherever she came from, could she be a spy? Plotting to steal information from us and take it back to her masters? I know it sounds ridiculous, but I can't just assume she is perfectly safe to be around.

I watched Optimus rest a hand on the unconscious femme's shoulder. Guess he is giving her sympathy? He's known for doing that a lot. I can easily see the need for sleep growing on Optimus, and I do my best not to laugh. Guess watching her sleep had made him sleepy, too. It is getting late, but Optimus had never given in that easily before. The femme must have a charm or something. Whatever. I did enough spying and headed towards my quarters before I was discovered.

~Ratchet's POV~

I smiled as I watched Optimus resting his head against the femme's berth, falling instantly asleep. I shake my head; Prime, you still got that soft side you've had since you were Orion Pax. That's the first time I've seen him do that in many, many years. Briefly glancing at the femme, I smile with a sigh. I cannot deny that I am just as eager as everyone else to hear all that's happened to her.

Turning away, I slowly make my way to my private quarters. My smile slowly faded as I journeyed to my berth in the darkness.

I do look forward in hearing your story, young one, but at the same time...I don't.

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><p><strong>Yay! Chapter 1 is finally complete! Please read and tell me what you think ^^<strong>


	2. Pt 1: Awakening

"**Forgotten"—A TFP Fan Fiction**

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><p><strong>Summary: The femme awakens<br>**

**Rated: M overall for violence, some future gore, and sexual content.**

_****This chapter is rated T for some sexual content****_

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><p><strong>Transformers characters © Hasbro<strong>

**Gira © Me**

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><p><span><strong>PART ONE: MYSTERIOUS<strong>

**Chapter 2**

"_G-1?" repeated the first guard, slowly peering into the cell. "That's Subject G-1?"_

_The second guard nodded slowly. "Not what you expected, is it?"_

"_No, sir, not at all. Subject G-1 has been rumored to have done the most vicious of slaughters aboard this ship. I expected someone far more...horrid and dark-looking."_

"_That's what the other patrol officers said when they first saw G-1. They expected someone malicious with an evil look in their eye. Nothing like this." The second sighed. "If there were one I'd show sympathy for, it's G-1."_

"_Why? And how come you don't address some subjects by gender?" asked the first._

"_Boss's orders. There are specific subjects we only address by their ID, so we only call this one G-1, not 'he' or 'she'. And the reason I'd show sympathy for this one is...well, because of the past that G-1 here endured."_

"_Such as?"_

"_A tragic past, a troubling young life, and being cursed with the power G-1 possesses."_

"_What power?"_

"_Frag it, you ask too many questions! There are certain things recruit guards, such as yourself, are not meant to know too soon, you know," the second snarled._

"_Apologies," stammered the first guard. "Everything is still so new. I'm just working out the bearings, trying to understand why things are the way they are. It's only my third night on patrol, but my first time being down the Blood Hall."_

"_Don't think excuses will get ya by here, don't think they'll cover up any mistake you made either. If you do something that, er, _troubles_ the Boss...he'll wind up making you a subject's newest play thing. And you certainly wouldn't want to be G-1's."_

_The first patrol officer shuddered and swallowed hard. "I understand." _

_They both heard very faint groaning emanating from within the cell they stood before and peered into it, where a dim, single light appeared, illuminating through the thick darkness, staring dazed, and out of focus._

"_That's all G-1 does in that cell," the second guard said, "just stares off at nothing, like daydreaming. G-1 does all the screaming during the experiments and tests. Then G-1 is given sedatives and placed back in that dark cell, doing nothing but stare. That there is the only dark look you will see, kid. The blank stare in that eye."_

"_What kind of experiments do they do on G-1, and what kind of tests do they make G-1 do?" asked the first._

"_What part of 'there are certain things recruit guards are not meant to know' did you not understand, recruit?!"_

"_A-Apologies, again."_

"_Ya got any excuses for that?"_

"_No, sir."_

"_Good. Now, let us press onward. We got more of this bloody hall that we need to secure. Plus, that one eye there is giving me the creeps."_

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><p>~femme's POV~<p>

I can very faintly feel my surroundings. I'm laying on something, it's neither hot nor cold, somewhere in between. The air is comfortable, as well, much better than other atmospheres I've encountered. I can feel my spark slowly pulsating in its chamber, meaning I am miraculously alive and functioning. I started to hear my surroundings, as well. There is a faint, rhythmic beeping sound coming from my far, upper right. A light noise is coming from another direction, too distant for me to decipher. I know I am not in my cell; the air is too warm. Where did they take me this time?

I also hear the sound of breathing. It came from right next to me. Was someone nearby, in the same room as me? I tried opening my eye, but I feel so exhausted. They must've done another overdose of sedatives. I tried again and made little success, so I tried sitting up. My body had never felt so heavy, as if heavy chains were holding me down. However, I managed to slouch over, letting my aching head bob. Now I had some strength to open my eye. The room I'm in is not too bright, not too dark, a sort of lighting I'm not used to. I allowed my optic to adjust before looking around.

I feel my body run cold. Everything I'm looking at—large, green monitors, yellow, miniature staircases, a geometrically-shaped inner-structure, massive rocks along the walls, a bizarre mark on the floor—nothing is familiar to me. I am completely in a different place. This was not the lab! Where am I?! Aboard another ship? Inside some empty, large holding unit, left to die? I became very afraid at this point but resist the urge to call out.

Then my focus returned to the strange breathing next to me. Slowly, I turn my head towards it and find a large heap of red and blue metal clinging to this berth that I'm laying on. My first reaction, like it has been for quite some time, was to scream.

The heap of metal jolted up after I screamed, revealing its face. It frantically looked around, then noticed me and stood up in a hurry. This thing was a giant! I roll off the berth, still screaming and try to crawl away, but this giant is following me. I'm screaming too loudly to understand what he was trying to tell me. I'm in a full-blown panic at this point. He's now trying to grab at me, but I swat his hands away. I crawled up against the wall and huddled in a corner, whimpering and ready to start crying as the giant continued to come closer. It then knelt down on one knee and rested a hand gently onto mine.

I can't explain the feeling I have now. As I look into his eyes, I felt something...it's very hard to explain...but it's a pleasant feeling. And then I remember. I began to relax as my optic widens at my realization, and I slowly crawl towards the gentle giant. He cradles me in his lap while I cling to him tightly. So long...so long...His spark...his eyes...Oh, _so long_...

"...It's you..." with the weak strength that I have now, that is all I can say.

~Optimus's POV~

I awake to a sudden, piercing scream.

Disrupted from deep sleep, I jolted myself awake and searched around me in a semi-panic mode before I could gather my thoughts together. Someone is screaming, and it is nearby. In fact, very close. I then glanced in front of me and notice the femme, sitting up completely, her optic wide and in horror and her jaw touching the berth as the let out a long, high-pitched wail.

The femme was awake, but she didn't awaken like I had anticipated. I need to calm her down. But as I get to my feet, she stumbles down from the berth and starts to crawl away from me. "It's alright, now, you're safe," I said, but her screaming drowned out my voice. She appeared so afraid, as if she had never seen an Autobot before. I tried picking her up so I can cradle her, but she slapped my hands away and scampered off towards a corner.

As I slowly approached her, she looked far more terrified and seemed to be on the brink of tears. "It's alright," I said as softly and gently as I could, kneeling down and resting my hand over hers, "you are somewhere safe. I will not harm you."

I noticed a change of behavior within the femme. She relaxed a little more, and we locked eye-contact for a moment. She seemed to stare directly at me for quite some time, then she began to slowly crawl into my lap. I got down onto both knees and allowed her to sit in my arms. Then she clung to me tightly and sighed.

"It's you," I hear her whisper. I blink a little and raise an optic ridge; what could she possibly mean? Have we met somewhere? Or perhaps she has heard of me? Before I could ask, I hear the other Autobots racing in.

I feel the femme tremble and hear her whimper as she hid her face in my chest. "It's alright, young one," I tell her, then she starts to nuzzle me.

"What happened?!" Ratchet asked. "Is everything alright?! Did something happen?!"

I stood up and faced him as I said, "Everything is fine, Ratchet. Our young guest had startled herself is all." My Autobots immediately take interest in the femme I carried, but I didn't have them come any closer than they already are. I did not want the poor femme to be any more frightened.

"I see our young friend here is finally awake," Ratchet said, slowly approaching me and the femme. I feel her cower again and cling even tighter to me. "It's alright, young one. I'm not gonna bite you." The femme then looked at him, and she managed to let Ratchet pet her head.

"This is Ratchet," I tell her and she looked up at me, then back to Ratchet. He offered her his hand, and she slowly accepted it. "He is our medical officer. He will take care of you until you have fully recuperated."

"Rat...chet..." the femme croaked, using a good amount of energy just to speak two syllables.

"Please, do not speak if you do not have to," I tell her. "Save your strength." The femme then returned to cuddling against my chest. Now I question what does she find so appealing about me and not the others? But I know it's best not to ask.

I then gesture to Bulkhead and introduced him to our guest. He kindly offered his hand, which the femme was reluctant to take at first but accepted it a moment later. I introduced her to Arcee next, kneeling down to Arcee's height. She gave her helm a nod and smiled before offering her hand. The femme seemed surprised to meet another female Cybertronian, but was still slow at accepting Arcee's hand. Then I introduced her to Bumblebee.

"This is our scout," I explain.

I hear the femme gasp and whisper, "Bumblebee..." Judging by the look of shock on her face as she stared at Bumblebee, she must've known him. Odd...this is the same expression she gave me in the corner...

The femme then extends her arms out to Bumblebee, as if she wanted him to come closer.

~Bumblebee's POV~

I'm relieved that the young femme is awake and didn't hurt herself by doing so. I, and the rest of the others, awoke to a loud, feminine scream and we knew it had to be the femme. By the time we ran in, everything had calmed down and settled. The young femme clung to Optimus as though her life depended on it; she's even nuzzling him like a sparkling would their parent. I found that adorable!

Optimus then introduces the femme to the rest of us, and she seemed a little hesitant to shake their hands. But with me, she did something else. She reaches out to me, as if wanting me to either take her or to come closer. Slowly, I approach her. Then she gently presses her hands on the side of my head and pulls me in closer, until our foreheads are centimeters apart. She stares into my eyes with her own and sighs.

"...Grown..." she manages to whisper to me. What could she mean? Had I grown? Have we met before?

"_Do you know me?" _I ask. Then she appears frightened and pulls away, returning to the safety of Prime's chest. I'm very confused. _"What did I do?" _

"Do not worry, Bumblebee," Optimus says. "Your new voice may have startled her a little. I am sure, like the rest of us, she will need time to get used to it." I sigh understandingly.

Then I hear a faint groaning noise, and I look down at the femme. She's hugging her abdomen and blushing. I know that look. She's hungry.

~Bulkhead's POV~

I'll say this, the femme is pretty cute. With all her shyness, and stuff like that, I mean. She is definitely the opposite of Miko. And the way she hugs Optimus, and the way he's holding her, is too sweet! I secretly take a picture and save it into my memory banks. Hopefully no one notices. She seemed a little reluctant to meet me, just like the others. I don't blame her. A lot of people are a bit antsy around me because of my size. But I'm what the humans call a 'gentle giant'—unless Breakdown or any kind of Decepticon is around.

I try to stifle a laugh when the femme pulled away from Bumblebee after he spoke; his current voice must've scared her. Understandable; we were all shocked about what happened to Bumblebee's voice box, but we've gotten used to it, and we can understand him just fine.

Then we all hear a faint grumble. I know that sound, but it wasn't coming from me. I notice the femme; she's hugging her abdomen and she's starting to blush. Aw! She must be embarrassed about how badly she needed refueling.

"I see you are in need of desperate refueling," Optimus says to her and she looks up to him. "Come, let us head to the refuel lounge."

~Arcee's POV~

The look on the femme's face when her fuel tanks groaned is priceless! I never knew someone could appear so embarrassed! I manage a smile and cover it so I don't laugh. Then Optimus leads us to the refuel lounge down the right wing.

Once we get there, Optimus placed the femme into a chair at the long table as we sat ourselves down, headed off to gather a plate, and began to stack Energon cubes onto it, along with a few goodies. The second Optimus placed the plate in front of her, her jaw drops and her eye widens, and her fuel tanks grumbles even louder.

She then looks to Optimus, and he gives her a nod. Then, she snatched an Energon cube and started to chug it down. When finished, she sat the empty cube down onto the table and reached for another, slurping that cube down, too. Finishing that one, she reached over and took a handful of goodies, shoving them into her mouth, then reached for more.

"The poor thing must've _really _needed refueling," Bulkhead said, a stunned look on his face.

Glancing at the femme, I notice her mouth is now tinted blue, and tiny bits of goodies were stuck to her face. She looked like a sparkling, covered in the food she's been given. She should really conserve it rather than shove it all down, desperate or not.

I notice I'm a little low myself and decide to refuel just a little. I reach out to grab a cube—but the femme snatches the cube I was about to take, and then some. I don't know why, but that made me very angry. "Hey!" I said, earning everyone's attention, especially the greedy femme. "You can't just hog the whole platter to yourself! We need some refuel, too, you know!" The femme stared at me, then at the Energon cubes in her hands. Then she placed the cubes down onto the table—and began to cry?

She hid her face in her hand and faintly sobbed, using her knuckles to wipe her eye. Her shoulders shakily bobbed up and down, and soft whimpers emanate throughout the lounge. Everything and everyone else was silent, as though they were listening to her cry. My anger slowly subsided. I didn't mean to upset her; I was just trying to tell her not to be so greedy.

"Arcee," I hear Optimus's voice directly behind me, and I slowly look up to him. "We have plenty of Energon reserves in our storage. There's no need for worry about running low. The femme is low on energy and needs this refuel. She can have as much as she wants."

"Understood," I mumble, lowering my head. I notice Bulkhead and Bumblebee comforting her by rubbing her back, which seemed to work. She raised her head from her hands, whimpering, the right side of her face soaked with tears. I then felt bad for her. I'm sure I'd hog all the goods myself if I were as desperate and in need of refueling as her.

"Well, according to my readings, she's had enough," Ratchet said, examining the femme's vitals on his wrist monitor. "She's gobbled down enough Energon to fast for a week or two."

"I'm sure the rest of the second week is mostly on her face," Bulkhead said with a laugh. The femme blushed and tried wiping it away with little success, only smudging it even more.

Optimus rested a hand on her shoulder and faintly smiles. "Come, let us get you cleaned up." She instantly looks up at him; there was a twinkle in her optic that shown every time she looked at Optimus. Then she nuzzled his hand with her sticky cheek, resting a hand over his. He picked her up and cradled her. "I will take her to the wash racks and help clean her up. I understand it is late in the morning and you all may need refueling." He looked straight at me. "You may now help yourselves to what you wish." Then he headed down the hall.

~Optimus's POV~

I was a bit displeased with Arcee's comment towards the femme and how it resulted in her bursting into tears, but I did not let it bother me much longer. I did appreciate Bulkhead and Bumblebee comforting her until she had calmed down, and I was relieved when Ratchet said that she had fasted enough to satisfy her symptoms.

However, she did make a mess of herself. I offered to help her clean up, and she had her own way of accepting it rather than nod. She nuzzled my hand and gently clung to my wrist as well. I noticed her optic slightly brighten as she looked at me. Whatever she finds so interesting in me, it must bring her great comfort. I picked her up and held her in my arms, and I granted my Autobots permission to start refueling themselves. I made sure to look at Arcee, then I headed down the hall towards the wash racks in the left wing.

I close the door behind us and set the femme down on the white tile floor. She jumped at the cold touch and yelps, grabbing back onto me. "It's alright," I say, setting her back down. "It will be cold for a while, but you will get used to it." I head for a knob on the wall and grasp it. "Now I am going to turn the water on, okay?" She seemed a little confused, so I slowly turn the knob. The showerhead that hung from the ceiling spurted water down, taking the shape of what the humans call an 'umbrella'.

The second the water landed on her, the femme slightly panicked and frantically tried to wipe it away, only to find herself completely covered in it as more came down from the showerhead. She appeared ready to cry again, so I went to her and calmed her down. "It's alright," I tell her. "It's only water. It won't harm you." I cup my hands and a puddle of water gathers. I show it to her. "You see? I am alright." I take her hands and cup them together; she gasps as water collects and puddles in her palms. She gazes at her reflection in the puddle then looks up at me, faintly smiling.

"...W-Wa...ter..." she croaks. She must still have little strength to even speak. Hopefully that will change throughout recuperation.

"Yes. Water," I say, swirling a finger in the puddle over her palms, chuckling as she let out a giggle, "it will help you clean up." She continues to barely smile at me—then she tosses the puddle in her hands at me, and it splashes in my face.

I did not expect that.

Wiping it away and out of my eyes, I see the femme cover her mouth and giggle. I smile; it is a pleasure and does my spark good to see one so content, and even laugh. I chuckle as I wipe away the water. "Hey, now. Remember, you are the one in need of cleaning up." The femme beams a smile and giggles again. My, does she have a bubbly side.

"I will be right back," I say as I get to my feet, but almost instantly her smile falls and she clings to one of my legs. "Do not worry, I will not go far. I just need to find a bucket and wash rag so I can clean you up." I gently pry her off and go on the search for a bucket and rag. Once I find one of each, I return to where I left the femme—only to find her hunched over, hugging her knees. I go to her, set the bucket and rag down and rest a hand on her back. "Are you alright? What is wrong?" I ask, worried she may have hurt herself. She raises her head at me and I see tears mingling with the water running down her face. I wipe them away with my thumb and smile, hoping she'll cease crying. "There, there, young one. I am here. Do not cry." She grasps my hand and places it on her cheek, then begins nuzzling it again. She must really like my hand. "Are you alright now?" I ask her after a moment. She gazes up at me and briefly nods. "Very well. Now, let us get you cleaned up."

Once the bucket was filled with enough water, I soak the rag, ring it out, and I hold it over her back. Very slowly I repeatedly run the rag up and down and in large circles, not pressing too hard and not too loosely. The femme starts moaning pleasurably, making me smile. I press just a little bit harder, and I notice something different.

The femme is now beginning to purr.

Puzzled a little, I stop. The purring ceases immediately and she turns to me with a little whine, as questioning me why I had stopped. "Oh, sorry," I say with a little stammer, and I continue scrubbing her back. The purring starts up again, and I faintly feel my cheek plates warm up. Why would she purr like this? Is it because she enjoys having her back scrubbed this way? Or for other reasons? I decided it was not my place to ask and remained silent.

I ran the rag over her shoulders while also massaging them with my thumb. The femme shivered a little and moaned, once again pleasantly. She twitches and whimpers a little whenever the rag grazed her neck; it must be a very sensitive area to her, so I do my best to avoid it. She sighed heavily and deeply when I scrubbed her helm. She must be enjoying this; from her appearance, she looked like she had not had a decent bath in a very long time.

I then move the rag up and down her arms and across her chest; my cheek plates burned as I ran the rag over her breast plates. Normally I would think twice before touching a femme's breasts, whether she minded or not. I remained in that area only a few seconds and guided the rag down to her abdomen and sides. She wriggled a little and let out a few, brief giggles. "A little sensitive here, as well?" I ask, and another giggle is her only response. I chuckle and guide the rag to her legs, avoiding her interfacing unit for standard reasons. I most certainly wouldn't want to offend her by touching that part of her body; plus, it is a bit unsettling for myself. I ran the rag up and down her legs, from her hip to her ankle, her optic following my hand, and her lips form a faint smile. Once I finish her body, I wipe away the Energon on her face that hadn't washed away with the water. "There, now. You are clean. How do you feel?"

She glanced up at me and barely smiled, sleepiness clearly seen in her eye. "Are you still tired?" I ask her, and a yawn is her response. "Alright. Let us get you dry and set you down somewhere comfortable." Helping her to her feet, I hand her a towel and she slowly dries herself off. Once she's dry, I guide her into the hall, then head over to the knob and twist it, shutting the water off. I dry myself off and rejoin her in the hall.

"Follow me," I say. She takes my hand and I guide her to the west wing. I head for a spare berth room and open the door. "This is where you will stay. If you ever need anything, do not be afraid to ask any of the others if I am not around. Alright?"

She slowly enters the berth room and looks around before heading for the berth and sitting down. "Now, try and get some rest," I say and turn away, ready to leave.

"No...!"

I stop in my tracks and turn back towards the femme. She had a distraught look on her face, as though she was on the verge of tears and panic. I cannot have that, so I enter the room and sit beside her. "What is it?" I ask.

Then she lays down, resting her head in my lap, nuzzling me. I blush instantly and try not to squirm as her helm brushes against my lap. "...Warm..." I hear her whisper. I now feel my entire face plate burning.

~femme's POV~

I really enjoyed the bath he had given me; it was the most relaxing feeling I had ever experienced in such a long time. I never knew he was so handy with a rag. He did it, just the way I like it done. I only wish it had gone on longer.

He handed me a towel and I dry myself off, then he leads me into the hall, goes to turn the water off and dry himself, and he takes me to another part of wherever I am. He shows me a vacant berth room; it is a little bare, but also cozy at the same time. He says this is where I will stay. Hopefully not permanently. I do enjoy a nice room, but if I had a choice, I would rather be asleep in his gentle arms than in a berth.

After looking around I sit down on the berth just to get a feel of it; it was alright. Much better than what I'm used to, but not perfect. Then I notice him about leave and a painful feeling hits my spark. I cry out with what strength I have left, thankful I got his attention. I don't want him to leave me...He has no idea...

He sits down beside me, and I make my move. I lay myself down in his lap and cuddle him there. "Warm," I whisper, and I feel his core temperature rise. I slightly giggle and settle down in his lap, closing my eye and slowly drifting off, whispering one last thing before falling asleep.

"...Miss you...Pax..."

~Optimus's POV~

My optics widen at what I hear. _Miss you, Pax_...What did she mean by that? Did she know me from when I was an archivist back at the Iacon Hall of Records? But how? That was ages ago. She shouldn't be...It's impossible. Perhaps she has only heard me being addressed as "Pax" by another Cybertronian and assumes that is my name...That seems the most logical reason. Glancing down, I see she is fast asleep, meaning I will be stuck here for a while. I sigh and rest a hand on her shoulder.

Sleep well, young one, and be ready for the questions you will be given once you've rested.

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><p><strong>here be chapter 2! ^^ I will update whenever I can<strong>


	3. Pt 1: Interrogation

"**Forgotten"—A TFP Fan Fiction**

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><p><strong>Summary: A young, timid femme is found half-dead in an escape pod in the Florida swamps and is discovered by Team Prime, where she is brought back to base and meets an Autobot she has not seen what felt like forever. But then she discovers he doesn't remember her at all. While she handles the unsettling facts that she is alone, she realizes the ones whom she escaped from are still after her, kidnap her and Team Prime, put them in cells and launch off into space. How will Team Prime get back to Earth? What is a young, timid femme willing to do for love, even if she's been forgotten by the Mech she's cared for with all her spark?<strong>

**Rated: M overall for violence, some future gore, and sexual content.**

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><p><em><strong>**This chapter is rated T for gore and some sexual content**<strong>_

**Transformers characters © Hasbro**

**Gira © Me**

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><p><span><strong>PART ONE: MYSTERIOUS<strong>

**Chapter 3**

_The patrol officers were all on their break, the two who patrolled the Blood Hall among the rest. They mingled and conversed about random topics, some different and some similar. But they all mainly spoke about the halls they walked through._

"_I went through the second hall on the fourth level, where that eight-headed, slime-spitting creature is hidden away, Subject B-3," said one guard. "What's that thing called?"_

"_It _was_ an average Insecticon, until it came across a massive heap of Tox-En," added another guard. "The amount of exposure should have killed it, but instead it mutated its body, turning it into a cannibal."_

"_But I thought Insecticons didn't spit slime," said a third._

"_Well, that one does," said the first. _

"_So, you say it went cannibal?" asked a fourth._

"_You bet. Started ripping other Insecticons apart with its jaws, feasting on its brethren, injecting acidic slime to melt them down so it can swallow the pieces better."_

"_That's revolting!"_

"_Ah, you're just too sensitive."_

"_Well, up on sector 3 in the seventh hall," a guard from a nearby table said, turning to them, "I saw a dwarf robot with a body bigger than its head. I think it was Subject D-6. He kept running in circles and banging his head against the wall. Was the funniest thing I'd ever seen!"_

"_I patrolled that level last week! I think I know what little bugger you're talking about. Didn't he go bonkers because he read an incantation on some cursed stone?" asked another guard._

"_That's what I heard," replied the first. "Supposedly he kept hearing a voice telling him to kill, kill, kill, kill. So, that's just what he did. Using that brain of his, he figured out how to wipe his planet clean. The universe's quickest genocide."_

"_Haha! Can't get any more extreme than that, can it?"_

"_We saw G-1." The other patrol officers looked to the recruit guard. "U-Up on the fifth level, down Blood Hall. I saw G-1."_

"_Are we supposed to be impressed?" scoffed another guard. "We all been up on Blood Hall during our first days as guards. They do that just to terrorize ya a little bit, try to spook ya to see if you're fit for being a patrol officer. We all gone through it, and we are lucky to make it this far. We all seen G-1."_

"_And what are your thoughts on G-1?"_

"_My thoughts? What the slag do you mean by that, kid?"_

"_What I mean is, what do you think of G-1?"_

_The guard nodded his head. "Ahh, I see. However, before I reply, why don't you tell me what you think of Subject G-1?"_

"_What I think?" stammered the recruit._

"_That's right."_

"_Oh...well...I don't think G-1 should be treated that way, being locked up and all in that cell...It just...doesn't seem right to me, you know?"_

"_And just what do you think is right?"_

"_Well, I—"_

"_I was being rhetorical, boy," scoffed the guard. "Listen. They have G-1 in that kind of cell for a reason. We have all seen the power G-1 wields, and we are all smart to stand clear. Those chains are what's keeping you and the rest of us from being slaughtered."_

_The recruit gasped. "G-1 is chained?! I never saw any..."_

"_In that kind of darkness, no one can, kid. Now, you can be all soft and mushy, and feel oh-s-sorry for G-1, wishing that something better could be done all you want, but know this: no matter how sympathetic you may be, if given the chance, G-1. Will. Kill you. Understand?"_

_The recruit swallowed hard. "U-Understood, sir...But...just what power is it that G-1 has that makes...G-1...so special?"_

_The guard sighed, shaking his helm as he took a drink. "Boy, you ask too many questions. Many of them you don't want to know the answer to, because they just might get ya killed."_

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><p>~Ratchet's POV~<p>

I exit the refuel lounge with a satisfied fuel tank, while Bulkhead, Bumblebee and Arcee continue to help themselves, and enter the hall. I step on something wet. Looking down to my feet, I notice there's a faint trail of water leading into the main hangar and down the west wing. Optimus and our young guest must be done with the wash racks. The least they could do would be to wipe up the excess water! I sigh, shaking my head, and follow the water trail towards one of our spare berth rooms.

I did not expect what I saw inside. The femme was sleeping in Optimus's lap, facing towards him, her hand resting on his...interfacing unit?!

He notices me in the doorway and looks at me like he needs help. But I'm too busy quieting my laughs to do anything. Oh, that's precious! The look on his face is too precious! That is going straight into my memory banks!

~Optimus's POV~

I have been sitting here with a femme sleeping in my lap, with her fingers lightly _tickling_ my interfacing unit, for over an hour, and I am relieved when Ratchet arrives, but instead of an assist from my old friend, he starts to laugh.

My cheek plates flush with humiliation, and apparently that only makes Ratchet silently guffaw even harder. I give him my coldest glare and he stops laughing, but he doesn't seem too threatened.

"What kind of scrape have you gotten into, Prime?" Ratchet whispers, shaking his head.

"Could you just help me move her?" I ask.

"Why don't you move her yourself?"

"Because I do not want to wake her up, now _help me_!"

Ratchet held a finger over his lips and he shushes me. "Easy, Prime. You've got a sleeping femme in your lap. You wouldn't want to wake her, would you?"

"_Ratchet..._" I growl, irritated at this point; I just wanted the fingers on my unit to disappear.

"Alright, alright, don't get yourself in a bunch," Ratchet chuckled as he approached me and the femme. Very carefully, he slid his hands under the femme's helm and side, lifted her up, turned her body around and laid her back down on the other end of the berth. Now having room to get up, I get to my feet and stretch, glad to move around. Thankfully, the femme remained asleep as Ratchet moved her.

We both move into the hall, leaving the door to the femme's room slightly ajar. Ratchet smirked up at me. "What is it about you that have femmes all over you?"

I glare harshly, my cheek plates still flushing. Hopefully I seem intimidating enough and more of a threat. "You will _not _speak of this to any of the others. Is that understood?"

"Hey, what happens in a berth room stays in a berth room."

"Ratchet!"

He laughs. "It's alright. I promise not to tell the others of the femme touching your unit. There. You happy now?"

No, in fact, I am not happy. I feel utterly humiliated. I just hope the flush in my face vanishes before the others notice. I slowly take a deep breath in, let it out slowly, and I eventually feel better.

"If she doesn't wake up in a few hours, I want you to wake her," Ratchet tells me.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because, Optimus, we need information from her. We need to know where she came from and if she knows anything about that pod. And you've got to be the one to waken her because she responds best to you, if you haven't noticed."

"Oh, I have noticed _plenty_, old friend." I sighed. "Very well. I will let her rest for a few hours then awaken her. Let the others know to meet me in the main hangar when she wakes up. Hopefully she will have gained enough strength to speak."

The few hours went by much slower than I had anticipated. I paced by the femme's door, practically guarding her, in case she ever awoke on her own. When time was up and she was still asleep, it was time to take matters into my own hands.

Quietly entering her room, I creep to her bedside and watch her sleep. She looks so peaceful, curled up into a little ball, her hands placed beside her head. I almost didn't want to wake her up, but I knew I needed to.

Resting a hand on her shoulder and barely shaking her, I whisper, "Young one, you need to wake up now." But all the femme does is moan and shift a little. I remembered something from our time in the wash racks and give her neck a little tickle.

The next thing I know I am on the floor with an aching jaw.

~femme's POV~

I hate it when others touch my neck. I have had a bad history of bots messing with me by stroking, tapping, even pinching me there. It is far too sensitive; and I especially despise it when they touch it to try and wake me up. I do not care who is doing it, I will hit them.

So, I awaken to someone tickling my neck, and shivers and tingles rack my whole body. Without even opening my eye, I swing one of my fists up and strike something. Whoever I hit hopefully learned a lesson.

Sitting up and massaging my neck, I rub the sleep from my eye and look at the afthead who disrupted my nap. I gasp when I see the friendly giant on the floor, rubbing his jaw and groaning. "You have a good arm, there, miss," he says and sits up.

I am too surprised to listen. I got a good long look at him, my jaw dropping and my eye widening as far as it can go. "Pax..." I manage to whisper. I don't believe it. This...this was real. It wasn't just some dream I had. This is really happening. This place I am in is real...Everything that happened before is real; I had real Energon, I had a real bath...The mech I am looking at is real...

It's him...It's really him...! I burst into tears of joy as I race towards him.

~Optimus's POV~

"Pax!"

The femme jumps off her berth and runs to me, throwing herself at me and hugging around my neck tightly. I can feel a few tears drip onto my chest as she nuzzles me. "Oh, I can't believe it! It's you! It's really, truly you! I've missed you so fragging much!"

She pulls away and slaps me across the face. Another thing I had not expected. "Idiot. You know I don't like my neck being touched!"

"Uh...I-I apologize," I stammer, a little dazed still by the blow to my jaw, and now the slap.

"Yeah, you better be sorry," she tells me in a threatening tone, tapping my face plate in between my optics. "You're just lucky that I didn't hit you any lower, like "_down there"_ lower." I had a distraught look on my face; she must find it amusing, for then she just bursts out laughing. "I'm only teasing, Pax. I'd never hit you there. Well, unless you were being a total afthead, but you haven't gone that far yet." She stops laughing and turns toward me, a serious expression on her face. "You haven't, have you?"

"Have I not, what?" I ask.

"Become a total afthead."

"Oh...I do not think that I have," I reply as I get to my feet.

The femme beams a smile. "Good. Then you have nothing to worry about. "And, whoa! You have grown a lot while I've been away! You must be, what, three times my size now?! That must've been one heck of a growth spurt, Pax!"

"Uh...if you do not mind me asking...why do you keep calling me 'Pax'?" I ask her.

"Duh, it's your name," she replies, looking at me as though I had asked an unnecessary question.

"But, I do not go by that name anymore," I inform her. "My name is Optimus Prime."

Her jaw drops. "...So...the rumors are true...you _did _become a Prime..." she says barely above a whisper. "But, oh well! Prime or not, you are still Pax to me."

This femme is very confusing. Why does she continue to address me as my former name? I decide to ponder it later. "Now, young one, would you mind telling me your name?"

She starts laughing. "_Young one_! That is good!"

"Miss, I am serious. I do not know your name."

She looks up at me, a confused expression on her face. "What do you mean, you don't know my name? You mean, you don't remember?" I nod. She and I stare at one another for a moment, then she starts laughing again. "Oh, I see! You're playing that game with me, aren't you? You won't fool me this time, Pax. But just for the heck of it, I'm Gira."

"Gira," I repeat. "That is certainly a name I've never heard before." The femme named Gira continues to laugh as if I am playing with her. This worries me. I clear my throat and stand tall. "Miss Gira, I request you come with me."

"Wow! I never knew you could be so serious, Orion Pax!" She continues to laugh, and I become annoyed.

"Gira, I wish you to cooperate and do as I ask, or I will lead you to where I want you to be myself."

She stops laughing then and stares at me. Then she sighs, shaking her head. "You have become more of an afthead than before, you know that?"

I ignore her comment and gesture towards the hall. "Please, come with me." Gira manages to cooperate and follows me into the hall. I guide her towards the main hangar, where the other Autobots await.

~Bumblebee's POV~

We had all gathered in the main hangar, just as Optimus had requested. I'm sure Arcee, Bulkhead, Ratchet and I are all wanting to ask our guest the same things. But Optimus had told us that he wanted to show the femme something before the interrogation began.

We saw the two of them enter, the femme holding onto his hand. She seems a bit nervous, but also comfortable. "I am pleased that you all gathered here as I instructed," Optimus says to us, then looks down to the femme. "Gira, do you remember the others' names?" So, the femme's name is Gira.

"I...think so," she says, and she approaches our medic. " Ratchet?"

"Affirmative," the doc nods.

The femme named Gira then goes to Bulkhead. "You are...Bulkhead?"

"That's right," he beams a smile.

Gira goes to Arcee next. "Arcee." She nods. "And...Sorry for being such a pig a while ago." At first, Arcee appeared to have not understood what Gira meant, then after a moment she did, and said it was alright. Then Gira comes to me and smiles. "Bumblebee."

I smile with my optics and nod.

"Autobots," Optimus says, gesturing to the femme in front of me, "this is Gira."

"Hello, Gira," the others say, and I bleep the same message.

Gira waves at the others then looks back to me. "What happened to your voice?"

"A story for another time," Optimus tells her. "In the meantime, I'd like you to follow me. The rest of you may join us if you wish."

"Where are we going?" Gira asks.

"There is something you must see." Optimus gives a nod to Ratchet, who then activates the ground bridge.

Gira's optic widens. "A ground bridge? You guys have a ground bridge?!"

"Courtesy of Ratchet," Bulkhead says with a smirk.

"Follow me," Optimus says as he approaches the swirling vortex. He stops when he sees Gira isn't beside him, but still with us, and has an uneasy look on her face. "What is it, Gira?"

She twiddles her fingers and gazes at the floor. "Yeah, you see...I've never really, actually been through a bridge before." Ratchet scoffs and she turns to glare at him. "You've become more of an afthead, yourself."

"It is alright, Gira," Optimus says. "I assure you, stepping through a ground bridge will not affect you heavily in any way." He extends out his hand. "Come along."

~Gira's POV~

A ground bridge. They have a fragging ground bridge in...wherever I am! Wicked! I've always wanted to see one, a fully operational one, up close! However...I've always been a little anxious to step through one.

Pax—er, Prime, says there's nothing to it, but I can't help but still feel a little antsy. Oh well. I was once told that it was better to conquer worries rather than wait for them to become easy. Following that advice, I join "Optimus Prime" by his side. Cautiously, I stick my hand through the portal, and my hand felt funny. Of course, I pull it back and retreat a little.

"Gira, we haven't got all day," Ratchet calls out.

I face him and glare as harshly as I possibly can. "Well, excuse me for being nervous about trying new things!" Ratchet only shrugs and focuses his gaze elsewhere. What a Grump-Gus.

"It will be alright, Gira," _Optimus _says to me. I guess he's noticed me blushing then. "What is the matter?"

"Well...I-I'm really embarrassed to ask this...but...could we, you know...walk through together?" I mean, of course we are going to walk through together, but I have something else in mind. I just hope this Prime understands my meaning.

~Optimus's POV~

I can understand Miss Gira's anxiousness to step through a ground bridge. I will admit, I was just the same when I first attempted it. The first experience does leave you feeling odd, but you instantly become used to it the second time and so on. At least, that was my experience.

I do my best to assure her everything will be alright, and then I notice her cheek plates flushing, and she asks me if we could walk through together. Then she holds out her hand. I had intended to step through with her from the beginning, but changed my mind to allow her to go through first and I would follow. But seeing she would be more comfortable if we journeyed through together, I make up my mind.

"Of course," I reply to her question and accept her hand. It did my spark good to see her smile. "Are you ready?" Gira takes a deep breath and nods, and one step after another, we travel from our base and into the Florida swamp known as the Everglades, with my teammates behind me.

While I and the others had adjusted to the terrain and walked into it just fine, Gira exclaims and jumps onto me, clinging. "It's organic!" she cries. "What is this place?! Why is it so hot and wet and sticky and smelly?!"

"Welcome to the Everglades," Bulkhead announces.

"The what?!"

I gently pry Gira off of me and place her back down, despite her refusals to let her feet touch the soggy soil. "It is alright, Gira," I inform her. "The terrain here is naturally this way and does not fatally affect our biology. It will not harm you."

"_Unless a snake or a gator gets you,"_ Bumblebee says, and I give him a warning glare.

Gira whimpers. "What kind of a place is this?" she asks.

"This is Earth," says Arcee. "Third planet from the sun in the solar system."

"Well, I'm not liking it!" She then glances up at me with a pleading eye and a quivering lip, folding her hands near her spark. "Carry me?" I can hear the others snickering and shoot them a glare to silence them, then face Gira again. In the early evening light, her single optic twinkled, and her face plate cringed into an adorable pout. Primus, my cheeks are burning once more. I know it is best to simply, and non-offensively, say no and have her adjust to the land around her, however this is anything but simple. "Please?" she asks, holding her arms out.

Sighing, I give in to her plea, lift her off of the ground, and sit her on my shoulder. She giggles and hugs my helm as if to thank me. "Let us move on," I say, and we journey through the marshes, once again careful about where we step.

Along the way, I feel something graze my neck; at first, my intention was that it was one of the insects flying around me, but glancing towards my right I notice miss Gira's hand at the base of my neck, and she innocently smiles. When I look forward, I feel the graze again, this time on the opposite side. I twitch my head a little and Gira giggles. The other Autobots constantly glance back at us and either smile or stifle a laugh. My cheek plates continue to burn. I allow this to continue on a moment more, waiting for her to stop on her own, but when she doesn't, I reach up and grasp her hand. "That is enough," I tell her, trying not to sound angry so she wouldn't become upset. Gira sighs and rests her head against my shoulder plate. I lower my gaze; now I feel like I have hurt her feelings, but I am unsure. So, to settle it, I slip my hand under her foot and graze it. As I expected, her reaction is to laugh and smile. I faintly smile myself, and we continue onward through the swamps.

Eventually, we arrive at the thick forest. I glance over at Gira and inform her that she must walk the rest of the way. Her optic widens and she nervously glances at the soil below her. "No need for worry. The ground is much drier here," I explain as I gently lift her off of my shoulder and onto the grass. She groans and appears uncomfortable.

"What is this stuff?" Gira asks, pointing at the ground.

"It's called 'grass'," Bulkhead says. "Relax, kid. It's not going to bite ya."

"It feels weird beneath my feet."

"You'll get used to it," says Arcee as she, Bumblebee and Bulkhead step into the forest.

"Where are they going?"

"The same place we are going," I tell her. "Follow me." She stays close beside me as we enter the forest. Being small, smaller than Arcee, she did have difficulty getting over fallen trees and vast quantities of water, and I help her across both ways.

"This planet is fragged up, Pax," she whimpers, practically hugging my leg.

"As I and the others have told you numerous times, Gira, you will be fine, and nothing is going to hurt you."

"Well, I've never been on a planet like this before, and you've clearly been here longer than I have. Can you really blame me?"

I sigh. "I suppose not." I can feel her smile of accomplishment shining on me, having won the discussion. "We are almost there," I say, just to change the subject. The trees begin to become less dense as we approach and enter the clearing.

"Why are we here?" Gira asks.

"To show you this." I gesture to where Bulkhead, Bumblebee, and Arcee stand as they clear a few trees, revealing the pod we had discovered. Glancing down, I notice the shock on Gira's face. Very slowly, she approaches it and I follow.

"What...? How...?" Gira stammers.

"The other day, we picked up a signal of an escape pod entering the Earth's atmosphere," I explain. "It crashed here in this clearing. When I searched inside, I found you in the cock pit unconscious."

She rests a hand on the surface of the pod, the shock still there, and there is something she mumbles, however I can barely hear her.

"_What are you saying?"_ Bumblebee asks.

Gira removes her hand from the pod and steps back a little, loosely hugging herself. "Nothing...It's nothing."

I can see the uneasiness overshadow her; she must know something concerning this escape pod. I kneel down to her height. "Gira, tell us what you know about this pod."

I notice Gira hugging herself a little tighter at my request and takes a breath. "I...I don't know much."

"Do you know where the pod came from?" asks Bulkhead. Gira shakes her head, saying she doesn't remember.

"Do you know anything about this pod?" Arcee says.

"Only that it's as strange to me as it is you guys," Gira replies.

I furrow my optic ridges at her statements but say nothing. I then message Ratchet to reopen the ground bridge so we can return to base, and one appears behind us. I allow Arcee, Bumblebee and Bulkhead to enter before Gira and I. I glance down at her suspiciously, and she looks at me nervously.

"Quit staring at me like that," she says with a whine and turns her back to me. "You're freaking me out, Pax!"

I sigh heavily, shaking my head. "Gira, it has become an issue having to repeat this to you. My name is not—" Gira suddenly collapses to her knees and topples over. Worried, I kneel down and pick her up, cradling her. "Gira, are you alright?" I ask with concern.

Gira moans before replying. "Yeah...just don't feel well."

Checking her myself, she is not overheating or shivering. Her reserves must be low. She still may need rest, and her wounds haven't completely healed just yet. Sighing, I hold her close and step through the bridge.

When everyone noticed Gira laying in my arms, they crowd around me, asking what happened. "She is fine," I tell them. "She just isn't feeling well at the moment." I lay her down on a berth in the medical bay so she can rest.

"Well, don't let her sleep just yet," Ratchet says. "We still need to ask her some questions."

"I think it would be best if she rests a little, and then we ask questions." Ratchet gives me a look, a look that even I cannot stand against, and I sigh, turning to Gira. "Do you feel well enough to answer a few more questions?" She slowly nods. "Very well. Ratchet, whatever question you have, ask. But respect whatever answer miss Gira gives you."

~Ratchet's POV~

I'm pleased that Optimus has given me consent to interrogate our young friend.

As I approach and sit on the berth beside her, I do notice she looks a little pale. I request one of the others to fetch an Energon cube and bring it to me quickly. Bumblebee volunteers, and while he races off towards our Energon storage unit, the others remain where they are and I begin the interrogation.

"Gira, first tell us about your past on Cybertron. Tell us all you can."

Gira sighs as she locks her hands together, resting them over her stomach. "Well...I was abandoned as a sparkling...I was taken under Alpha Trion's care, I was raised with other sparklings and went to Iacon Daycare and Iacon High, and I was Alpha Trion's apprentice at the Iacon Hall of Records."

"You were the apprentice to Alpha Trion?" Optimus speaks up.

Gira looks at him strangely and nods. "Yes, I was..."

I clear my throat and prepare to ask my next question. Bumblebee returns with a fresh Energon cube and hands it to me, and then I offer it to Gira. She reluctantly takes it and sips. "Tell me, what did you do during your days as Alpha Trion's apprentice?" I ask.

"Usual stuff," Gira answers bluntly as she sits up, setting the cube down beside her. "Sort through data-pads; alphabetize, categorize, and sort them in chronological order; I polished ancient artifacts, mainly the discovered weapons that belonged to a few of the 13 Primes. As I got older, I looked after some of the sparklings that were taken in by Alpha Trion and placed in the Daycare. I also tended to his personal needs as well."

"Such as?"

"Why are you so curious to know?"

I feel my cheeks blush as my hearing picks up the others chuckling. I sigh and move on to my next question. "Were you involved in any other activities during the war?"

Gira raises her head, her single filled with confusion and question. "War?...There was a war? On Cybertron?!"

"You don't know about the war?" says Bulkhead, and Gira shakes her head no rapidly. I notice her eye has now widened out of utter fear. She lowers her gaze and looks at her hands, curling her fingers inward, balling her hands into weak fists.

She mumbles something I cannot pick up. "What was that?" I ask, but she ignores me and keeps her head down.

"H-How long has the war been on?" she asks.

Optimus bears a look of concern and tells her, "It is clear you are unsettled and nervous, miss Gira. I believe it is best if we do not overwhelm you with knowledge you do not possess, however later on, we will inform you of all we feel you need to know. Alright?" She doesn't answer him either.

I clear my throat and begin again. "Let me rephrase that question: Gira, have you been involved in any other activities...at all?"

"No." That's her reply. Quick, simple, and low-sounding.

I raise an optic ridge. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Not according to my sources." I feel everyone stare at me, but I am unfazed.

"What sources?" Gira asks slowly in a low tone, slightly raising her head, her single optic eying me. I never noticed the dark look it had until I do a double-take.

"I am afraid that is none of your concern," I tell her.

"If it has anything to do with me, it is of my concern, actually."

"Not unless I say so."

Gira narrows her optic, keeping her head as it is. "And who ever said I wanted an _old medic_ to decide what concerns me and what does not?"

Normally, I am able to control my temper and bite my glossa to prevent myself from saying things I do not intend to say. I have been insulted more ways than one and have paid no mind to them. But no one, absolutely no one, not even Optimus. Calls. Me. _Old._ "You little...!" I spring to my feet.

I did not expect what happened next.

~Arcee's POV~

At what Gira has just said, I'm certain that Ratchet was going to knock some sense into her and teach her to watch her mouth. But the second Ratchet got to his feet, Gira begins to panic and scoots back on the berth up against the wall. She starts whimpering as she presses herself to where the corner of the berth and the side of the wall meet, curling her legs in towards her chest and hugging them. Her optic is full of nothing but fear, and the Energon-blue lens has completely shrunk.

"Easy, Ratchet," he says. After a moment, Ratchet grumbles and relaxes, and Optimus turns to the bold-talking femme. "Gira, would you care to tell me why you said that?" Gira doesn't answer. She sits there with the same expression on her face, breathing lightly and quickly, almost hyperventilating, and faintly whimpering. "Gira!" he exclaims a little. She jumps with a startled gasp and looks at him. She now seems relaxed. What the slag just happened?

"Yeah?" she asks normally.

"Why did you say that to Ratchet?" Optimus asks again.

She blinks at him and furrows her optic ridge. "Say what?" Optimus then repeats what she had said, and she looks shocked. "I...said that?"

"Yes. And we would like to know why?"

Gira looks away, keeping her head low, and merely says that she doesn't know, speaking in almost a whispering tone, like a timid sparkling. I can spot a fib when I see one. She has a reason, she just doesn't want to share it. "I guess I'm still a little tired," she mumbles.

Optimus lets go of Ratchet with a nod. "I agree that you should rest; especially if you are not feeling well. You've done enough for today." He offers her his hand. "And bring the cube with you. You need nourishment."

We all watch Gira slide off the berth with the cube in hand, and she and Optimus headed down the west wing. Of course, I follow. I'm careful to stay close behind, but a good distance away so I'm unseen and unheard. Optimus leads Gira into her berth room and she sits on her berth. He tells her to get some rest and then leaves. Before I can hide he notices me in the hall, so I pretend to have just arrived.

"She alright?" I ask.

"I am sure she is still exhausted and needs rest, and nothing more," he replies, then heads down the hall into the main hangar. I stay where I am and then head straight for Gira's quarters.

Peering inside, I see her happily sipping away at the Energon cube. Very, very peculiar. She goes from gloomy to freaked out to content in a matter of seconds. That only makes my suspicions for her even greater. I stand in her doorway, and she doesn't notice me until I speak. "You were lying."

Gira slightly jumps and glances at me, confused by what I mean. "About saying you didn't know why you spoke to Ratchet that way. I know a lie when I see one, and even though your face was covered, I could tell."

"Arcee, I really don't know why I said those things," Gira tells me, stammering. "I guess I just got tired of Ratchet pushing me and got mad, I don't know."

"Well, whatever the reason, what you said back there wasn't true." I turn to glare at her as I leave. "Same thing with the pod."

~Gira's POV~

I have a funny feeling at what Arcee has told me. A churning feeling brews in my fuel tank, and I'm forced to set down my Energon cube and lay down. I feel dizzy as I try to focus on what's happened, and the things I've been told. War? How could there have been a war? I wasn't gone that long...was I?

I think back on what Arcee told me. I have a good reason for lying.

What I know, it has to be a secret. They don't understand, but if I tell them...No. I have to keep it to myself. They can never know, unless they _absolutely_ must.

What Arcee says is true. I do have a reason for why I said those things to Ratchet. But that is also something I must keep to myself.

But, even though I know the reason why I spoke to him like that...I...don't remember saying those things. I do remember Ratchet telling me there was a war, and then Pa—er, _Prime_, is asking me why I said what I said to Ratchet. Nothing in between. That's what freaks me out most. It must've happened again. Oh, I hope I haven't done anything worse.

And the pod. Of course, I know things about it. I know what it is, where it came from, how it works, and how to destroy it. But I cannot let the others figure it out. They'll find me, if they haven't already. I can't let them find me. I'll put the "Autobots" in danger. No way I'll sleep well tonight thinking this. But one thing scares me far more than not remembering arriving on this planet called "Earth."

I don't even remember getting into the pod.


	4. Pt 1: Questions

"**Forgotten"—A TFP Fan Fiction**

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><p><strong>Summary: A young, timid femme is found half-dead in an escape pod in the Florida swamps and is discovered by Team Prime, where she is brought back to base and meets an Autobot she has not seen what felt like forever. But then she discovers he doesn't remember her at all. While she handles the unsettling facts that she is alone, she realizes the ones whom she escaped from are still after her, kidnap her and Team Prime, put them in cells and launch off into space. How will Team Prime get back to Earth? What is a young, timid femme willing to do for love, even if she's been forgotten by the Mech she's cared for with all her spark?<strong>

**Rated: M overall for violence, some future gore, and sexual content.**

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><p><em><strong>**This chapter is rated T for some sensitive material**<strong>_

**Transformers characters © Hasbro**

**Gira © Me**

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><p><span><strong>PART ONE: MYSTERIOUS<strong>

**Chapter 4**

"_What does that alarm mean?" the recruit asked as a deep, rumbling siren emanated throughout the halls. He noticed all the other patrolmen getting to their feet in a hurry, arming themselves and quickly paced out of the lounge to the elevator shaft._

_The guard who patrolled Blood Hall with him stood up. "Experimentation time," he mumbled, a deep glare in his eyes._

"_What does that mean?"_

"_Means the subjects are heading towards the labs for testing."_

"_Testing?"_

"_That's right. The scientists take the subjects in and figure out new ways in what makes them tick, ways that will make them use their unique abilities."_

"_By _make_, do you mean _force_?"_

"_You could say that," the guard nodded._

"_Is it G-1's experimentation time, as well?"_

"_Well...according to today's schedule, sectors 3 through 5 are due for experimentation. So, yes, it's G-1's time again. And you have been assigned to deliver G-1 to the lab."_

_The recruit looked up in shock. "What?! Me?! But what if G-1 tries to kill me?!"_

"_Relax, kid," said the guard. "The chains prevent G-1 from using the ability that makes the poor thing so special. With those chains, G-1 can't hurt you."_

"_But..."_

"_No buts. Best get going. The Boss wants each subject present and quick."_

_The recruit nodded, jumped to his feet and headed for the elevator shaft, pressing the top button against the wall. He shot up through the transparent, circular tube and came to a stop at the entrance to sector 5, the fifth level. Heading for Blood Hall, he cautiously journeyed down the path and stopped in front of the cell belonging to G-1. He peered inside; the single blue light was not there. _G-1 must be sleeping, _he thought. Taking a deep breath, he flipped a switch and the sealed door hissed and slowly slid open. Although the light in the hall was bright, it wasn't enough to penetrate the blackness that filled the cells of Blood Hall. _

_The recruit cautiously entered the black cell, using the light of his own optics as his way to see. Going deeper into the cell until he managed to find the back wall, he looked down to find what he was looking for._

"_Yes...G-1 is sleeping," he mumbled, then he knelt down in front of the slumbering subject. He sighed softly and shook his head. "I just don't see how someone with a face like yours...could have done such malicious acts."_

_A blue, dim light slowly illuminated in front of him, causing the recruit to stumble back a little. Giving himself a few moments to relax, he approached the awakening being once more. The one eye G-1 possessed continued to gaze blankly at nothing. "Um...h-hello there," he said sheepishly and quietly with a nervous laugh. "Um, I am sorry for waking you, G-1, but...it is time for your experimentation." He got no reaction, as expected, but he still kept his guard up. "Now, I am going to remove the chains from the wall, and you are going to come with me. Alright?" Once again, no reaction, so he went away and unlatched the chains from the wall, and Subject G-1's arms fell to the ground. He noticed G-1's hands were sealed in small traps with heavy locks. "Those are some heavy locks. They must hurt, don't they?" No reaction again from G-1, but the recruit didn't care. "But don't worry. Once you're in the lab they'll remove those shackles and your hands won't hurt as much. Okay?" He slowly reached out and rested a hand on G-1's shoulder._

_He was surprised to get a reaction; G-1 slightly raised up and looked up, still not focused on anything but the single optic flickered and moved. He could even hear faint breathing aside from his own. He bore a half smile and got to his feet. "Well, I'm sure the Boss is wondering where you are, since you're so special. Do you need help getting up?" The recruit went behind G-1 and slid his hands under the arms and faintly gripped. G-1 flinched at his touch and he laughed a little. "Did that tickle? Sorry. Here, now." As he rose to his feet, he lifted G-1 as well until they both stood up. "Alright. Do you need any support so you can walk, or do you think you can manage?" The shakiness in G-1's legs revealed the answer. "I see. Here, let me put your arm around my neck."_

_He suddenly had a fuel tank-churning thought of this subject strangling him with her arm, then tearing him to shreds with the special ability that makes G-1 so unique from the rest of the subjects aboard the ship. But glancing down to get another look at the subject's face, he had enough confidence to believe that wouldn't happen. He draped G-1's arm over his shoulder and placed a hand by the subject's hip, and the two slowly stepped out into the hall._

_The recruit heard a faint moan emerge from G-1 as they entered the light and he briefly chuckled. "I'm sure the light bothers you from being in that cell so much. But you'll adjust to it after a while. Now, let's get going." He led G-1 down the hall to the elevator shaft, where he pressed the bottom button and they shot downward. The only sounds around them were the whirring of the machines that powered the elevator, the whistling of the air passing them, and the faint breathing from within, coming from the subject. The recruit constantly glanced at G-1, focused on something else, then back to G-1. _

_After a moment, he said, "You know, I've only heard you being addressed as 'G-1'. Surely you must have a name of your own." Subject G-1 only continued to gaze at the floor, breathing faintly and evenly. The recruit sighed and stared at his feet for a while, then looked to the subject he supported with a friendly smile. "Well, my name's Hot Rod. Just so you'd know." His smile grew at the sight of the subject's helm slightly raising up. It was faint, but it was movement._

_The shaft reached the bottom level, and Hot Rod jumped at who he saw waiting for them on the other side of the door. "T-The Boss," he whispered as the door slid open._

_The Boss grinned as his eyes fell upon the subject. "There's my favorite pet."_

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><p>~Gira's POV~<p>

As expected, I didn't sleep so well last night. My head is still aching when I wake up. I've been so few things, but they have made a huge impact. Just like they don't understand some things about me, I don't understand a few things about them. They've asked their questions. Now it's my turn.

As I sit up in my berth and let my legs dangle over the edge, I hear a knock at the door. "It's open," I tell whoever is at the door while I yawn and stretch.

Lo and behold, the _Prime_ enters, sticking his upper, broad body halfway in while rest stays in the hall. "Have you rested well, miss Gira?" he asks me with a faint smile. I've seen that smile cover up his whole face once.

"Uh, it was alright," I lie, not wanting to, nor feeling like it, explain what bothered me throughout the night. "What brings you here, Pax?"

He then frowns at me as he enters my new berth room. "Gira, it has now become a bother having to tell you this over and over. My name is no longer _Orion Pax_, but _Optimus Prime_." Now, I frown at him. _How much longer are you going to keep this up? _I think to myself.

Then I smirk and hop down from my berth. "You still won't fool me, Pax. You say you're a Prime, but I know you're in there." He sighs again and I can't help but giggle. He thinks he can fool me, but he knows that he can't. I'm the master trickster. But he keeps a nonchalant expression on his face. I've never seen Orion Pax be so..._expressionless_...before.

~Optimus's POV~

This femme still confuses me with my past self, Orion Pax. Or she refuses to believe who I am now and insists on addressing me as the name I was given while working as an archivist. No matter how many times I tell her to not call me by my past name, she doesn't listen. It bothers me as much as it worries me. Does she think we are playing a game? What game? Where one pretends to not know the other? How does she not see that I am being truthful about not knowing her, and that I am not playing along?

"Hey, Pax," Gira says after a moment of silence. I look up and see the smile she once had has faded, and her helm slightly hangs forward and is turned away from me. "I know you have questions for me...but I also have questions for you. Do you mind if I ask?"

"Of course not," I say; although I do have a great suspicion of what questions she'd like for me to answer, I am sure there are questions she has for me that I have not even thought of. "What do you want to know about?" I ask her.

Gira slowly turns her helm a little towards me, where I can see the dull edge of her left optic patch. "The War." I had a feeling she was going to mention that. Then she turns her body halfway in my direction. "Who started the war? What was the cause? When did it happen? Why did it happen? How long has it gone on now?"

I hold a hand up. "One at a time, Gira." These questions were simple to answer, and I decide to answer them in the order she has asked them. "The Decepticon warlord, Megatron—who was once the gladiator Megatronus—began the war. The cause was rumored to have been because Megatronus wasn't anointed as Prime, and someone else was. It began many a millennia ago. It happened because of rivalry and vengeance. And while our home world is uninhabitable, we continue to fight battles here, on Earth."

"So...the War is...still going on?" she asks.

"Correct." I notice her fists are clenching tightly and her helm hangs even lower. "Gira...are you alright?"

"...Yeah...I'm fine," she replies, lifting her head a little. "It's just...so much to absorb."

"I understand. The War is a topic difficult to discuss, with all the bloodshed and sacrifice that has been put into it," I sigh. "However, Megatron and his Decepticons have been quiet these past few days. But we Autobots are always on alert in case that changes."

"I see." She speaks in the same tone she spoke to Ratchet to last night and I furrow my optic ridges. Then she faces me with a crooked smile. "So, many a millennia, huh? That's one slag of a war. I can imagine it being a burden on the rest of you. You fought in it?" I nod and she scoffs. "Wow, you have changed. You used to be against violence, and now you're standing her telling me that you now fight?...You have changed, Pax..." She completely turns her body towards me. "So...what's that symbol on your arm mean?"

I look to where she points and see the insignia I bear. "That is the symbol of the Autobots. We bear it with pride to show we will stop at nothing to win this war."

"Do the...Decepticons...have their own insignia as well?"

"Indeed."

"What do theirs look like?" I then project an image of the Decepticon insignia on the wall of the berth room. "Ah. Doesn't look too friendly. I can tell just by looking at this that they are...malicious beings, am I right?" Personally, I don't think _malicious _is the right description, but I nod.

"Are there any other questions that you have for me?" I ask.

"Let me think." She paces around tapping her chin. "Oh! How did you become a Prime?"

I then open up my chest cavity, revealing the Matrix of Leadership, and Gira's optic widens. "During the war, our planet had been poisoned and consumed by death, and I ventured to the very core of our planet, to Primus himself, to seek an answer. There did he give me the Matrix, and I awaken a Prime."

"You've met Primus?!" she exclaims and runs to me, clasping my hand and starts bouncing. "No way! I am so jealous right now! What was it like?! Did he say anything?! How did it feel being given the Matrix?!"

"Slow down, Gira, please," I try not to exclaim. "Although I hardly remember that say, being so long ago, I felt humbled when I was given the Matrix of Leadership. I had never imagined that I was going to be given such an opportunity."

Gira giggles like a sparkling. "I told you you'd amount to something! I told you!"

"You did?" I raise an optic ridge.

Gira laughs and releases my hand. "You kidder. I don't know how long you'll keep this up, Pax. Don't know if you plan for me to beg you to end it and act for real, or if you intend on giving up soon. But no matter what, you won't fool me. I'm not that easily fooled, you know."

"No, I do not know, Gira," I tell her. "I truly do not remember, nor know you."

"Whatever. I need refueling," she shrugs and skips past me into the hall.

I sigh deeply, lightly pressing my fingers against the side of my helm while shaking it slowly. This has gone on long enough. I need to think of a way to convince her that I have no recollection of her at all. I just hope she will easily accept it.

I jump as I hear a high-pitched scream and race into the hall.

~Ratchet's POV~

Like every other morning, I am busy in my lab trying to work on my latest inventions, hoping they'll aid us in this eon-long war. Luckily I've had much more time to work on them since Megatron and his goons haven't been active for almost a whole week. And while that relieves me, it also worries me, just as much as it worries Optimus. While I still have doubts, I'm hoping _at least one_ of these contraptions will work.

I hear someone enter from the west wing; judging by the humming and the skipping, I do not need to turn around in order to know who approaches. "Good morning, miss Gira."

"Morning, Ratchet!" she says and she stops beside me.

"Well, aren't you in a cheery mood this morning."

"I usually am if I'm in a good mood," she tells me. "Where are the others? It's quiet."

_Oh, it won't be for long,_ I think to myself. "They left a while ago, but they are actually returning now." We both turn towards the tunnel and see Bulkhead, Arcee and Bumblebee drive in."

"Oh. Well, where'd they-?" she stops when their passenger doors open. Jack steps off of Arcee, Rafael climbs out of Bumblebee and Miko gets out of Bulkhead. The three meet up, greet one another, and that's when they notice Gira.

"Whoa! Who's the new bot?" Miko exclaims and runs to Gira—and Gira abruptly starts screaming. She backs up and jumps onto me, clinging to my arm as if her life force depended on it. Frightened and confused, Miko steps back while Jack and Raf join her side.

"W-What are they?!" Gira cries. "What the frag _are_ they?!"

"Uh...we're humans?" says Jack.

"No, we're germs!" Miko says evilly with a giggle.

But miss Gira took her seriously. "_What_?! Keep away, then!"

I sigh, running my free hand over my face. That's right; we never told Gira about our human allies. They had already gone home when we found her, and they visited while she was sleeping the other day. But still, there's no reason to make such a scene.

Luckily, Optimus had arrived. "It's alright, Gira. They won't hurt you," he tells her. "These humans are our companions. Jack, Miko, Rafael...meet Gira." I pry her off of my arm and place her on the floor, yet her legs give in and she sits instead of stands.

"Hi," Raf says smiling as he waves. "So you're the one named Gira." She nervously nods, eying Raf like he's a scraplet. "Bee's mentioned you a few times. So you really came to Earth in a strange pod?" Gira nods again, shifting a little where she sits on the floor.

"That's cool! Does that mean you came from another planet?!" Miko asks her.

Gira cringes at the loudness of Miko's voice, which is an understandable action, and shakes her helm. "N-No...I...I'm Cybertronian..."

"So, you're from Cybertron like the others?" asks Jack.

"Y-Yes..."

Jack laughs. "It's okay, we won't hurt you. You don't have to be scared."

"I'm not scared!" Gira cries, making the three children back up a little.

"It's fine, Gira," says Bulkhead. "We've been hanging out with the kinds for months now, and we're fine."

I am relieved when I see Gira slowly beginning to relax. "Well, that's good...I guess it would seem silly to be frightened by such a primitive species."

"_Primitive?! _Oh, that does it!" Before any of us know it, Miko races towards Gira and starts climb onto her.

"No, don't! Get off! Get off of me!" Her panic quickly vanished as she began giggling when Miko had reached her abdomen and began tickling her there. "No, stop! I'm ticklish!"

"No way! This is for calling us _primitive_! Payback!" Miko cries, showing no mercy. The childish antics continues for another moment, and we all just stare at the wriggling femme on the floor and the human girl on top. A strange way to start a Monday morning, but not the strangest I've seen.

Which reminds me. "Why aren't you three in school?" I ask.

"It's a holiday, Ratchet," Raf explains. "We don't have school today." I scoff; only a couple weeks back in school and they have a day off. The learning facilities are much different here than the ones back on Cybertron in the city of Iacon.

"I see," I grumble. "Miko, that's enough now!" Miko whines and slides off of Gira, who is breathing heavily and curled into a ball, hugging her abdomen. I bend down and help her to her feet; once she's standing she bolts straight to Optimus and hides behind his leg, meekly peering from behind it and cautiously eying the human children—especially Miko. Understandable.

~Gira's POV~

Weirdest. Morning. EVER! First I meet these three, pink, fleshy creatures known as _humans_, I humiliate myself in front of Pax, and then the one named Miko just decides to crawl onto me and start tickling me to the point of leaking lubricant! I have been tortured enough in my life time! But the others don't need to know that.

I briefly glance up at the _Prime _and I feel myself blushing. I wish he didn't see me like that, all spasmodic and screaming. But secretly looking up I see him smiling at me. That only makes me blush even more. After a moment, I come out of hiding and say that I'm heading for the refuel lounge, and I hurriedly pace down the hall.

While I have my privacy for the moment, I take a sip of a Energon cube and try to recollect on all that I've been told. The War has been going on for...a very long time...the non-violent Orion Pax has become a soldier...So, it must be true. I've been gone the entire time. Now all I need to worry about is what went on during my absence. Plus, Pax has been a Prime for Primus knows how long. I still cannot believe he met Primus himself! I almost didn't believe him at first, but then I remembered that Pax was always a horrible liar. But still...so much has changed. My old home is no longer suitable to live on, a good friend of Orion's has become his mortal enemy, Orion himself has changed—especially outwardly, and the "Autobots" have rendered to taking refuge on an organic planet with primitive life forms...Even though I've never participated in this because I was elsewhere, it's still so much to take in. I am surprised he fell for my excuse when I asked him about the War. Then I think of something else that makes my fuel tank churn.

_I wonder if he knows yet..._

I'm disrupted from my thoughts when I hear voices in the main hangar of the Autobot base. My curiosity gets the best of me and I creep into the hall, staying close to the wall as I try to listen in. It's Pax and that medic, Ratchet.

"You are certain, Optimus?" Ratchet says in a hushed tone, but not hushed enough to escape my sharp hearing.

"Indeed," Pax replies. "She has continuously addressed me as my former name, 'Orion Pax', and despite my numerous attempts to tell her otherwise, she refuses to listen."

Just as I suspected. They're talking about me.

"I see." Ratchet ponders a moment. "Well, it's clear she's known you for quite some time, possibly ever since you had worked as an archivist. But, if so, she should be much older. She appears to be no more than 17 Cybertronian years old. And you are positive you do not remember her at all?"

"I am absolutely certain, Ratchet."

A cold feeling spreads through my body, and I do my best not to inhale too sharply. The way he speaks...No...He has to be joking...He has to be...!

"I do intend on convincing her that I am not who she believes."

"What do you have in mind?" Ratchet asks.

"She and I will spend the rest of the day together," the Prime explains. "I will give her a tour of Earth, you might say, and along the way I will do my best to have her realize she's been mistaken. Then, by the end of the day, hopefully she will come to her senses."

I glare at the floor and grit my teeth. Come_ to my senses?! _Does he think I'm crazy?! I know _exactly _who he is! I can tell who just by looking into his eyes! My senses are just _fine!_

"Gira?"

I freeze and hold my breath.

"Is that you? Come on out," says the Prime. I briefly clench my fists, take a deep breath and step into the main hangar. Both Pax and Ratchet stare at me, but Pax smiles—faintly, again. "Have you refueled enough?" he asks me.

I nod. "Yeah...I've had enough."

"Good," he says. "I was hoping you and I could spend the day together, clear things up between us and settle things. If that is alright."

"_Things are already cleared up and have been settled, thanks," _I want to say, but instead I reply, "Sure...sounds like a good idea. We have catching up to do, anyway."

Lots of catching up.

~Optimus's POV~

I am pleased, yet not at all surprised, that Gira has accepted my offer for the two of us to spend the rest of the day together. Normally, I would simply let her be and continue my search for any Decepticon signals, but since Megatron has been quiet for almost a whole week, the chances of him popping up are unlikely. But still, I'd like someone to keep an eye out.

I triangulate a set of coordinates and activate the ground bridge, then I turn to my old friend. "Ratchet, resume your search for any Decepticon activity. If there is any sign of Megatron, let me know and we shall return immediately."

"Understood," he replies and heads for the monitor. "You two have fun."

I look down and see Gira is once again anxious about stepping through the ground bridge. "If you are wondering what is on the other side, it is not the swamp. I will tell you that much."

"Why won't you tell me?" she asks.

"This planet has many wonders and beauty," I say. "It is best to see it for yourself rather than have it explained."

"Right," she sighs. "Okay, then..." I offer her my hand and ask if she would like us to step through the bridge together like before, but she declines and enters without me. Surprised, as well as concerned, but not wasting time questioning it, I follow.

* * *

><p><strong>Up next—Chapter 5: Surprises <strong>

**~~So, now you know the recruit's name, you meet The Boss, and if you have any questions of what is to come or what you think will come, feel free to ask, as well as review. Many thanks! ^^~~**


	5. Pt 1: A Little Sightseeing

"**Forgotten"—A TFP Fan Fiction**

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><p><strong>Summary: A young, timid femme is found half-dead in an escape pod in the Florida swamps and is discovered by Team Prime, where she is brought back to base and meets an Autobot she has not seen what felt like forever. But then she discovers he doesn't remember her at all. While she handles the unsettling facts that she is alone, she realizes the ones whom she escaped from are still after her, kidnap her and Team Prime, put them in cells and launch off into space. How will Team Prime get back to Earth? What is a young, timid femme willing to do for love, even if she's been forgotten by the Mech she's cared for with all her spark?<strong>

**Rated: M overall for violence, some future gore, and sexual content.**

_****This chapter is rated T for some sensitive material****_

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><p><strong>Transformers characters © Hasbro<strong>

**Gira © Me**

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><p><span><strong>PART ONE: MYSTERIOUS<strong>

**Chapter 5**

_Hot Rod was at a loss for words as gazed at the chief of the asylum and captain of the ship in awe and out of fear. The Boss hardly ever came out of his cabin except to watch the "tests" performed on some of the subjects. There were rumors of what he looked like, but no amount of detailed words could describe his personal appearance. Everyone knew G-1 was his most favorite test subject, so of course he would be glad when G-1 arrived. Hot Rod just never expected The Boss to be waiting like that._

"_Ah, Hot Rod. Many thanks for delivering my prized guinea pig," The Boss said as he rested a hand on G-1's shoulder and pulled the subject to his side. "Have you rested well from your last treatment?" he asked, and got no response from G-1. "Oh, you won't speak to me? No matter. You will do plenty of talking when Driller and Scorcher get their hands on you." Hot Rod noticed The Boss squeezing G-1 shoulder, who slightly flinched and shuddered at the grab. _

_The Boss then looked to Hot Rod and smiled. "Well, since you've delivered G-1 to me, I am willing to show you what we do here in the lab. That is, if you are curious enough to find out." _

"_Oh...uh, I'd be honored to witness what your top scientists are performing with such diligence, but...I-I think I'll pass, sir," Hot Rod stammered, doing his best to sound confident._

_The Boss raised a brow. "Oh? You are not interested, you say? Well, during your first night patrolling the Blood Hall, you overwhelmed Onslaught with your many questions, among them being what tests and experiments we do on subjects, such as G-1. And, my boy, aboard this ship...there is no such thing as diligence." Hot Rod swallowed hard and leaned back as The Boss drew nearer to him. "So, since you are so curious, won't you join me?"_

_The Boss smiled, but Hot Rod could see behind that smile. He could see that The Boss wasn't really asking to participate. He was demanding him. "Come with me," the hidden message read, and Hot Rod was not wanting to find out what would happen if he declined a second time._

"_Uh, o-of course, sir," he said and forced a small smile as he tried to avoid direct contact with The Boss's eyes._

"_Excellent! Follow me then," The Boss said. He then scooped G-1 up into his arms and they journeyed down the hall. They passed by several other labs where subjects were being tested; Hot Rod did his best to avoid looking beyond the glass, dreading what was taking place on the other side. There was an uneasy, heavy silence in that hall, and not just because of the sound-proof glass. _

"_Hot Rod." The Boss stopped in his tracks and Hot Rod did the same. "Look through the glass at all the other subjects, and tell me what you see." Hot Rod swallowed hard and slowly did as he was told._

_He glanced warily into one lab and flinched. "I...I see one of the Dinobots we have...The scientists, they...they are zapping and prodding him with electrified probes...It's crying out, as if...as if it's in pain."_

"_They are trying to see what is the source of Subject H-4's ferocity," said The Boss. "And H-4 has massive quantities of strength and power."_

"_If you don't mind my asking, sir, but...how does prodding him help them discover the source of his raw power?" Hot Rod asked. _

_The Boss grinned. "Watch." Hot Rod looked again; the scientists and experimenters were probing H-4 rapidly. Then the Dinobot widened its mouth and yelled out, then it began to transform into its reptile mode. It swung its tail powerfully and tried to stomp flat the tiny creatures below it. Hot Rod flinched and turned his head away when the Dinobot breathed fire all around the lab. "Ooh, he is angry," The Boss chuckled. "That may be among one of his sources for that kind of raw power. If you probe a Dinobot and he becomes fed up with it, he lashes out to make it stop." The grinned as he and Hot Rod watched the experimenters fire a blast at the Dinobot's head, striking powerfully, and within moments the Dinobot crashed to the floor, unconscious. "And that is how you shut him up. Same with all subjects. A good whack in the head is all it takes."_

"He_?" whispered Hot Rod._

"_What's that?" The Boss asked._

"_You called Subject H-4 '_he_'."_

"_Yes, I am aware," The Boss nodded as they continued down the hall. "While I have limited my staff to addressing a few selected subjects only by their ID, I am the only one aboard who can call them whatever I wish. Take miss G-1 here, for example."_

"Miss_?"_

"_Well, she is a female, son," The Boss laughed and glanced down at G-1, who appeared to be asleep in his arms. "Oh, isn't that cute. Are you asleep, miss G-1? Oh, no, we cannot have that. You are about to begin your testing." Hot Rod watched The Boss raise one hand towards G-1's neck and uses two fingers to pinch it. He flinched and backed away when G-1 let out a loud squeal and wriggled in the Boss's grip. "There, now you are awake." Hot Rod sighed helplessly as he watched G-1 inhale sharply and shudder sighs and whimpers. He straightened when The Boss stopped again and turned towards him with a crooked smile. "That is one way to keep miss G-1 going; just a pinch on her neck and she instantly comes online."_

"_I-I see," Hot Rod said, swallowing hard. "But, is there not a more gentler way to awaken her, sir, without inflicting any pain?"_

_The Boss's smile hardened. "Dear boy...did you not hear what I said earlier? There is no such thing as diligence aboard this ship. And, being a recruit, you have not gained permission to address G-1, or any subject, by gender. Your conversation with Onslaught regarding Subject F-6, I will let slide, since it was your first night in the Blood Hall. But it would be wise to follow my instructions, boy. Or else someone new will be placed on the slab."_

_Hot Rod paled. "U-Understood, sir."_

"_Good. Let us carry on." They both continue their journey down the hall, in a long silence until Hot Rod asked another question._

"_Uh, sir, I hope you don't mind my asking, but...does G-1 have a name?"_

"_Of course, she does," The Boss replied. "But what does it matter to you?"_

"_Nothing, sir...I-I was just—"_

"_Nothing, you say." The Boss stopped again. "The poor thing's name means nothing to you. Is that right?"_

"_No, sir! What I meant was—"_

"_Young bot, if we were in the lab and miss G-1 were let loose, she would have sliced your neck open without question for saying such a thing."_

_Hot Rod gasped. "S-She—er, I mean..._G-1_, would?"_

"_Of course. And her reasons for doing so are logical. Something to do with her past." The Boss lowered his head to G-1 and placed a hand on her helm. G-1 flinched. "I have seen G-1's raw ability myself. There is not one being in this universe that could stand alone against the likes of her. But while the rest of the crew feels caution and fear, I feel admiration. The power she possesses is enough to strike fear into the very hearts of stars and planets."_

"_Sir...what kind of power does G-1 possess, exactly?" Hot Rod asked._

_The Boss began to laugh. "Onslaught was right. You do ask a lot of questions. I could almost say you are just as fascinated about miss G-1 as I am. But, instead of explaining it to you"—he approached the door of an empty laboratory, punched in the code, and the door slid open with a loud hiss. He then turned his head towards Hot Rod, smiling that crooked smile again—"would you like to see it?"_

_Hot Rod seemed afraid to say 'no', so he nodded. "Yes, sir."_

"_Very well. Follow me." _

_As they entered the lab, Hot Rod looked around. From both ends of the top deck where they stood, a spiral staircase dropped to the bottom floor. In one corner of the room where a few scientists lingered and conversed was the lab, which was really only a desk, a monitor screen, and a lab table. Underneath the top deck on the floor was a back room with windows; Hot Rod inferred that room was used as a viewing sight, and for protection. Along the walls of the lab were shackles. Other than those few things, the lab room was basically empty. _

"_Driller!" exclaimed The Boss, and one of the scientists looked up. "Catch!" Hot Rod's optics widened in shock as The Boss tossed G-1 over the rail from the top deck. The scientist named Driller came running, but not fast enough, and G-1 landed on the floor, head first as the chains dragged her down._

"_Whoops," Driller laughed, as did The Boss and other scientists. Hot Rod felt his cheek plates burning as he glanced over the edge, watching G-1 getting onto her knees, whimpering. Then Driller rammed his foot into her side repeatedly, knocking her over as she let out a yelp. "Come on, get up! Get up, G-1! It's time for testing!"_

_Hot Rod badly wanted to rush down there and come to G-1's rescue, but he knew he would only get himself and G-1 into more trouble; or worse, G-1 had to pay for his actions._

"_That is enough now, Driller," The Boss said. "Let the first stage of testing begin." Driller then grabbed G-1 by the shoulders and dragged her to the back wall of the laboratory, linking her chains to it._

"_What's the first stage of testing?" Hot Rod asked._

"_Just a little warm up," The Boss answered simply._

_Hot Rod then glared as he lowered his gaze to Driller. "And was it necessary for Driller to torment G-1 like that?"_

"_Torment?" The Boss laughed. "You think that was torment? That was mere teasing. Child's play. If you have the stomach for it, you will see what real torment is." Hot Rod could already feel his fuel tanks churning at the thought of anything worse than being kicked around by a cold-sparked scientist. _

"_Alright, Scorcher," Driller shouted, "bring on that protoform!" The scientist entered the lab carrying a protoform over his shoulder, then dumped it on the floor a few feet from where G-1 was propped up. Scorcher then went over to G-1 and removed the capsules around her hands. From where he stood, Hot Rod could see scratches and scars around her wrists and upper arms. _

"_What is the protoform going to be used for?" he asked aloud._

"_You will see in just a moment," said The Boss._

"_Why did they only remove the capsules?"_

"_Hush up."_

_Tossing the capsules aside, Scorcher towered over G-1, smirking. "You ready, G-1?" G-1 only hung her helm, breathing heavily. "Oi! I'm talking to you!" Scorcher then kicked her in the abdomen, causing G-1 to cry out and making Hot Rod cringe._

"_If you even think of running down there to save her, I will put you in her place, boy," The Boss muttered loud enough for Hot Rod to hear. Hot Rod gulped and kept his feet where they were, fighting the urge to stop Scorcher from ramming his foot into G-1's stomach._

_Scorcher eventually stopped kicking G-1, knelt down, grabbed the sides of her face and lifted her head. "I said...are you ready?" Hot Rod could very faintly see G-1 shake her helm, glaring while also trembling. "That's what I thought." He turned to The Boss. "First stage completed. She's warmed up." He heard the sound of purging and turned to see fluids pouring from G-1's mouth. "Ugh, not again. Eh, I'll get that later."_

_Hot Rod's eyes flashed angrily as he gripped the rail. _Why? Why do they treat her this way? What has she done to deserve such torture?! _he thought to himself._

"_Relax, Hot Rod," said The Boss. "This is all standard procedure; meaning, this happens almost daily. It's nothing shocking. I've seen it numerous times. It's our own way to get G-1 ready for the next stage of testing."_

"_You mean, all that bashing around was stage one?" Hot Rod asked, trying not to raise his voice out of anger._

"_Indeed. And the next includes that protoform, where we will have a little fun with G-1's mental state," The Boss explained. "The protoform will portray someone from G-1's past. Whoever that someone is, we use a trigger word to have G-1 enter one of her phases."_

"_Phases?"_

"_Yes. She has many of them. My particular favorite is when she gets violent and goes into hysterics. Her phases also have many triggers, meaning saying one wrong thing can cause her to enter a phase. Same with actions. If we do something she absolutely resents or doesn't respond well to, she will enter a phase. A good example is, miss G-1 does not respond well to lying. She despises it. How she reacts is indescribable and unpredictable. The down part is, she doesn't remember what she does during that phase afterwards."_

"_I-I see...How can you tell when G-1 is in a phase?" Hot Rod asked._

"_Easy. Just look at her eye."_

* * *

><p>~Ratchet's POV~<p>

I was confused at first when Optimus and I conversed in private in the control room, but then I began to understand why he is so concerned. He should be. I think a little alone time between himself and Gira may be a good idea into trying to convince her that he doesn't know, or remember her. Like that "Jenga" game the human children always play. Remove one block at a time without knocking the whole tower down. Taking it nice and slow. However...it does hurt me to keep things from Optimus.

I was a little surprised to see Gira refuse Optimus's hand and run into the bridge on her own. Either she is upset, or she is getting bold and able to do things on her own...No, I am sure she is just upset. But about what?

A thought gives me an odd feeling in my fuel tanks. Could Gira have possibly overheard Optimus and I's conversation? The refuel lounge is not that far a trek from the control room. I sigh and pinch the inner corners of my optics close together; a human habit I have recently picked up. Recollecting on what we discussed, I can see why Gira would be upset. While I do sympathize her, I also pity Optimus, as well. He will have no clue as to what Gira is saying if they ever break into conversation.

"Ratchet!" I hear a voice behind me and turn to see the human children coming towards me. "Who just left?" asks Raf.

"Optimus and our mysterious guest, Gira," I say.

"Alone?" says Jack and I nod. "What could they be doing?"

The look on Miko's face indicates that she is intending something unpleasant. "Nothing like that, Miko! Optimus wishes to speak with Gira alone and show her a little bit of your planet. Nothing more, nothing less. Honestly..." I mutter the rest of that sentence to myself as I shake my helm and begin my search for any sign of Megatron or any Decepticons. I cannot believe any of them would infer Optimus would do anything in that way to such a young femme...a femme who shouldn't be so young to begin with.

~Gira's POV~

I gaze at it in awe. Never have I seen anything like this in my entire life. The formations, the colors, the patterns, the size...everything about it is enrapturing! My eye keeps on following the curves and jagged edges without tearing away. And the way the afternoon sun's light hits it, and the way the colors just bounce off and come to life...If I wasn't so busy gawking, I would be bouncing all over the place! But right now, my feet are planets into this red, hard soil with Pax behind me, my jaw touching the ground, leaving me at a loss for words for a while. "This is..." I manage to say after a long time, "...so...so...!"

Pax chuckles a little then steps up next to me. "Take it all in. I must admit, I felt the exact same way when I first saw this."

"And...what did you say this was called again?"

"The Grand Canyon," he says.

I laugh. "Well, I can that this place is most certainly grand! I mean, this thing must go on for dozens of miles!"

"1,902 square miles, to be exact."

I giggle and turn to him. "You've still got that knowledge-hungry mind. Anyway, what else does this planet have?" The Prime messages Ratchet back at their base via the comm. link and another bridge appears within a moment. We step through together, and as we journey to the other side, I notice the sound of rushing water. Are we heading for a "river" of some sort?

Once we step out, I gasp at what I see. "By the fragging All-Spark!" I stare at a massive body of water running rapidly over the edge of a cliff, and mist rises up then dissipates. "What is this?!" I ask, bouncing up and down.

"I believe the humans call it the _Niagara Falls_," Pax explains.

"It's so beautiful...So, what else does this planet have?"

Pax blinks at me. "Shouldn't you at least take a few moments to-?"

I hold my hand up and he stops talking. "You said this planet has many surprises to offer. If we take too much time at one place, we won't get to see them all. What's another amazing place? I wanna see more!"

Pax and I stare at one another for a moment, then he sighs and messages Ratchet to open another bridge. Eager to see what awaits, I run on through. "Gira, wait!" Pax exclaims. Before I can ask why, I suddenly come face to face with a jagged cliff coated in white and screech to a halt. The white stuff slips over the edge and falls a great distance. I feel myself losing balance and panic, flaring my arms around. But before I can fall, Pax leaps through the bridge and grabs my hand and wrist. I yelp in pain as he gets a firm grip on me and slowly lifts me back up. "Are you alright?" he asks.

I can see the concern in his eyes. To think, all that worry is for me. I cling to him and nod. "Yeah...I-I'm good," I say, hoping he doesn't notice my blush. "So...what's this place?"

Pax looks around while keeping a hand around my body, holding me close. My flush spreads across my face. "The top of the landform known as Mt. Everest. The tallest mountain on Earth above the sea level, standing at almost 30,000 feet."

"And you had a bridge open at the very tip of this thing?!" I exclaim. "Dude, I could have fallen to my death if you hadn't caught me!"

"I told you to wait, but you didn't hear me."

"Uh, I was running through a portal of swirling energy! It's nearly impossible to hear anything on the outside! And you know I get excited when I want to see new things!" I counter, placing a hand on my hip.

"I never knew that," he says bluntly.

I glare at him a little then look at my feet. "...What's this white stuff called? And why is it so cold?"

"Rafael has informed me once that it's called 'snow'. It's tiny droplets of frozen water that falls from the sky. That is why it's so cold. And if you clump them together, you can make a snowball."

"Well, it's too cold! Can we go somewhere else so I won't have my circuits freezing?" I start to shiver as the icy wind starts to pick up. I can tell the air is thin up here, but luckily we Cybertronians do not need to breathe.

I hear Pax sigh. "Very well," he says, then requests Ratchet to open up another bridge. This time he's specific on the location. He requests a place that is tranquil as well as warm and welcome. In a moment, a bridge appears—below us?!

~Optimus's POV~

"Oh, _slag _no! I am **NOT** jumping down!" Gira says firmly.

"Would you like me to carry you?" I offer, extending my arms a little. She looks up at me, uncertainty in her optic, as if she does and does not want me to assist her. It is as though she is testing me, seeing if I am worth trusting. That seems a little odd. Earlier today she has been all over me, and now she is acting like I am a total stranger, just like she is a stranger to me. Hopefully, I can convince her still that I am not who she mistakes me for.

Gira sighs. "Fine." She holds her arms up and I lift her, pressing her close so there is no risk of her slipping from my grip. Telling her to hold tight, I leap over the edge of the mountain, plummeting through clouds of snow and ice towards the ground bridge. When we fall through, we land on soft, warm grass.

"Alright, Gira," I say and set her down. "The humidity here is above average. It should be enough to warm you up."

"Okay," she says and walks off a little, looking around. "Where are we?"

Glancing around, I notice we are in a stretch of clearing that runs through a thick forest of cedar trees, and the grass is covered in water droplets known as dew drops; the sun has completely set and the sky is full of stars. In the distance I can hear the wildlife; night birds calling one another, the animals grazing, and the wind is blowing calmly. "Somewhere peaceful," I reply, and I follow her on the walk down the clearing. We both not speak a word for a while.

I am first to break the silence. "You see that light right there?" I ask Gira, pointing to the night sky. She nods. "That is Cybertron."

I hear her softly exclaim in awe. "Looks so small from so far away...But it seems less bright than I last remember." She then hangs her helm and loosely hugs herself.

I rest a hand on her shoulder. "It's alright, Gira. We all miss home, and we all wish things were the way they once were, before the Great War. But one day, it will be. I promise you."

"Sure," Gira mumbles.

I sigh and let my hand slip from her shoulder back to my side as we continue through the clearing, approaching a larger flatland beyond the border of this forest. The wind picks up a little and the trees around us begin to sway a little. I notice a faint cloud of yellow shaking off of the trees and scattering into the air. I believe the human children call it pollen. I remember earlier in the spring this year that the pollen had heavily affected their bodily systems. They looked miserable, and often complained that they felt exactly that. Normally, such a thing would not have an effect on Cybertronians, but I have learnt over time that anything is possible, and not long after that I have come to realize that I, too, have a slight reaction to this yellow powder, just as I did to dust as a youngling, but I had grown out of that. I just wish Ratchet would not make such a fuss over it.

I can already feel its affects and I do my best to keep it to myself. However, I manage to unintentionally sniffle once or twice, earning Gira's attention.

"What's up with you?" she asks.

"Nothing, really," I say, fanning away some of the yellow dust flying around. "It's just pollen. It seems to have a bit of an effect on me. But I'm alright." She looks as me with uncertainty, as though I am telling a lie—which is not entirely false. As we continue the walk, my sniffling increases, much to my displeasure. I can see how the humans find this season of allergies a bother. If Ratchet were here, he'd be checking my vitals every nano-klik, and he'd panic when I'd start to hitch, but the human children have informed us that is natural.

Without even realizing, I start to hitch a little—and Gira immediately reacts. I do not expect her to jump onto me and press her hands over my air vents. The hitching stops and we stare. "What are you doing?" I ask.

"Stopping you from sneezing, silly," she replies and I raise an optic ridge. "I know once you start you can't stop. I remember that one time you were sick and when we were playing a game in the library after hours."

"I do not remember that," I say. I notice her expression becoming almost like a look of hurt, then she glares at me and jumps down, marching off. I am confused and concerned simultaneously. "Gira, wait," I call to her. "What is wrong?"

She stops and hugs herself tightly. "You're mean," she says with a sniff.

I am bewildered at what she says. "What do you-?"

"How long do you plan to keep this up, Pax? The joke is up. I know it's you. You don't have to keep trying to fool me anymore, so just stop it!"

I sigh and slowly approach her. "That is another matter I would like to discuss with you. Gira, you need to understand that I am not Orion Pax, and I have no recollection of you at all."

"That's not true!" she cries, startling me a little. "What you said isn't true...It can't be...I know you're still there...! I know it!"

At first I have not a clue as to what she is referring to, but after a moment of thinking it over, I realize her meaning. "You overheard Ratchet and I before we left."

"I'm not crazy...I'm not crazy...I have my senses!"

"No one ever said you were crazy, Gira. And, I am sorry if I've insulted you with what I told Ratchet. It was never my intention to insult you."

Then she asks me without looking at me, "...Why did you really bring me out here?"

I notice her change of tone instantly. The same tone she spoke to Ratchet with during the interrogation. Just by the sound of it, something doesn't seem right, but I have a feeling it is better not to question Gira about it and answer the one she asked me. "My original purpose was to try and elucidate to you that I am no longer my former self. I am Optimus Prime, the last of the Primes. I remember some things from my past as an archivist, but Gira, I have no memory of you at all. Whatever you tell me from your past, it makes no sense to me. I am sorry if this upsets you, but it is the truth. Hopefully, you understand now."

There is a long silence between us. Only the wind and wildlife make any sounds. I stand where I am, a few yards behind Gira, and she keeps her back to me, her arms slowly falling to her sides and hands forming loosely clenched fists. I can understand that this is hard for her to absorb; although nearly impossible to be this young to have known me all those years ago, she and my former self must have been very close. I expect her to start crying any moment, and when she does I will be ready to comfort her in any way I can.

"_Liar_."

Not the response I was expecting. I still do not understand it; I have spoken the truth and yet she still refuses to believe me. But the way she accuses me—the way she says it, I mean—is what earns my attention primarily. Her tone is darker, deeper, colder. She doesn't move a single circuit in her body, remaining still like a statue, keeping her helm low and her hands by her side. I notice her fists have tightened a little. "I am not lying, Gira. I speak the honorable truth."

"No...you're _lying_ to me...You must be..." she growls.

"I am not fond of lying myself," I say with a sigh, "but for the first time in a long time, I wish I was. I understand the truth can hurt someone, and-"

"It's _not_ the truth...you are _lying_...!"

I shake my head and sigh to myself. "Gira, for the last time, I am not lying. I do not know you."

"_**LIAR!**_"

She whirls around and howls at me, causing me to take a step back. That is when I notice the dead silence. The forest creatures have stopped, the wind has died down, the tree branches and leaves have stopped rustling. There is no other sound aside from Gira's heavy breathing. That is when I also notice something about her. Her face plate has scrunched into a deep glare, her dental plates baring, her fists clenched as tightly as possible. After a long look at her, I see that her single optic lens has shrunk completely. Something is most definitely off.

I sigh and let myself relax. "It is clear you have become agitated and need some time to cool down. Perhaps a little rest will help." She literally growls at me then swiftly turns away. Although the lighting is poor in this terrain, I can see her body trembling. She hugs herself and digs her fingers into her arms as her breathing begins to become uneven. I start to worry that she may be unwell and message Ratchet to open up a bridge back to base. The very second one appears, Gira takes off through it, leaving me alone.

~Ratchet's POV~

Throughout the day, I have wondered how things were going between Optimus and Gira. I know he has repeatedly messaged me to open a ground bridge to a new location, and I questioned if he is to keep doing that. I knew they wouldn't take the whole day, but I never expected them to return within the hour.

About half an hour he last called me, Optimus requests a bridge to take them back to base. This catches me by surprise. "They want to return already? I guess Gira has seen enough," I mumble to myself and head for the ground bridge controls.

"What's going on?" asks Rafael as he, Jack and Miko come over by the rail towards me.

"Optimus and our young friend have decided to return to base," I explain as I throw the switch.

"So soon? That was a quick date," says Miko.

"What's a date?" I ask.

"It's a time when a man and a woman go out and spend time together alone," Jack explains.

I nod, then I scoff at the idea of Optimus and Gira doing such a thing. "It's not a date, Miko! I told you, Optimus is only taking Gira sightseeing and then they're going to have a little talk. Nothing more, nothing less."

We both turn towards the ground bridge and are surprised to see Gira rushing in with her hands over her face. She races past us and heads for her private quarters, slamming the door. We watch her flee, confused and concerned. What could have caused her to become so upset? Well, I know the answer, of course.

"Uh...no hello?" Miko says as she puts a hand on her hip. Then Optimus walks in through the bridge; he looks exhausted.

"What's wrong with Gira?" Rafael asks.

"Everything is alright, Rafael," Optimus informs. "Gira just needs time to absorb all that she has been told. It's getting late, and you have school tomorrow. Why don't you all return home?" The children nod and head off to find their guardians, leaving Optimus and me alone in the control room.

I give him a look and he returns one. It's a basic conversation, however we speak with our eyes. He knows what my question is, and he nods, giving me a firm stare, then he heads off to his quarters, turning in for the night.

I sigh, shaking my helm. It seems the tower has fallen.

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><p><strong>Uh, okay, what up Gira? Why so snippy? Well, you'll find out soon, guys! ^^ Please be sure to review and leave any Q's that you may have. Many thanks! <strong>


	6. Pt 1: Tears

"**Forgotten"—A TFP Fan Fiction**

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><p><strong>Summary: A young, timid femme with an unnatural talent is found half-dead in an escape pod in the Florida swamps, is discovered by Team Prime and meets an Autobot she has not seen what felt like forever. But then she discovers he doesn't remember her at all. While she handles the unsettling facts that she is alone, she realizes the ones whom she escaped from are still after her, kidnap her and Team Prime, put them in cells and launch off into space. How will Team Prime get back to Earth? What is a young, timid femme willing to do for love, even if she's been forgotten by the Mech she's cared for with all her spark?<strong>

**Rated: M overall for violence, some future gore, and sexual content.**

_****This chapter is rated T for some violence****_

**Transformers characters © Hasbro**

**Gira © Me**

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><p><span><strong>PART ONE: MYSTERIOUS<strong>

**Chapter 6**

_Scorcher and Driller dragged the protoform over to their little lab station in the corner and laid it on the examination table. Driller took a seat at the monitor and pulled up numerous files. "Oi, Scorcher. Keep an eye on the one-eyed freak, aye?"_

"_Right," Scorcher snickered and faced G-1, folding his arms over his bulky chest with a sneer on his face. "We're gonna have fun with you, dear," he said as he began to laugh. _

_Hot Rod scoffed to himself at that remark. He found it funny that what they called _fun_, G-1 no doubt called _torment_. But, as The Boss said, this was nowhere near torment. _

"_Right, Boss! Which loved one should we use as the dummy?" called Driller._

_The Boss chuckled. "Remember, Driller. Not all of them were loved ones And, let's use one we haven't messed with in quite a while, shall we?" Driller grinned and nodded his head as he selected a file and began downloading the data into the protoform. Surges of electricity sparked from the body as it began to twitch and take shape of something. "Shocking, isn't it, Hot Rod?"_

_The recruit was amazed, as well as surprised. "But...I thought you had to use Energon in order to make a protoform copy of another individual..."_

"_On your planet, yes, that is the method to use," The Boss elucidated. "However, from obtaining knowledge from that brilliant mind of G-1's on how to create protoforms, we've managed to create our own method. Yet, we do require a little sample of that blue stuff you Cybertronians have fought over for so many years." He grinned as we watched Driller inject the Energon sample into the protoform._

"_Where did you get the Energon from?"_

"_G-1, of course."_

"_What?! Why G-1? We have other Cybertronians aboard this ship!"_

"_Oh, like yourself?" said The Boss, and Hot Rod stepped down. "I am aware of how many Cybertronian guards and subjects I have aboard my ship. I am also aware that I am willing to get an Energon sample from any of them. But I need a sample specifically from G-1 for...genetic purposes."_

"_Genetic?"_

"_You'll see."_

_The surges of electricity surrounding the protoform grew as it continued to mold into something. The limbs took similar forms, the upper and lower abdomen rose and fell, the chest took shape as well, and the head of the protoform rose and fell. From his position, Hot Rod can instantly tell that the protoform was taking the shape of a femme of some sort._

_Then the surges of electricity dissipated, and smoke clouded around the protoform femme. "Protoform molding completed, Boss!" exclaimed Driller._

"_Excellent...now let's put her to use." The Boss looked to Scorcher, who was continuing to torment G-1 by stroking her neck and jabbing her in different parts of her body just to get a sound out of her. "That will be enough, Scorcher!" Scorcher snickered and backed away as he popped his knuckles. Driller then stepped up, leading the protoform femme behind him, and approached G-1, who hung her helm and breathed heavily as fluids flowed from her mouth and fresh, but minimal wounds. Hot Rod could hardly see the features of the protoform femme, aside from the dull-red armor plating and the silver diamond-shaped crest on the helm._

"_Who is she?" he asked._

"_You will find out in just a moment."_

_Driller knelt down and lifted G-1's helm slowly with two fingers under her chin. "Hello there," he said with mocking sympathy. "You have a visitor, miss G-1." G-1 lifted her heavy, single eye to the protoform. Driller grinned as he watched her optic lens completely shrink and she starts quivering. G-1 frantically tugged at the chains and whimpered, pressing herself as far against the wall as she can._

_The Boss grinned. "She is now in a phase."_

"_What? How can you tell?" asked Hot Rod._

"_I told you. Look at her eye." Hot Rod did just that and gasped. "The only other sign we have if she is in a phase is a complete behavior change, as you will see in a short while."_

_Driller had the protoform femme step closer and G-1 cried out, turning her head away as tears began to fall. "No...no! Keep...away! S-S-Stay a-away...!" Hot Rod had never heard G-1 speak, and hearing the hoarseness in her voice was spark-breaking to the recruit._

"_Aw, what's the matter, miss G-1? You don't want to see your own mother?" Driller mockingly cooed. The protoform femme knelt down and leaned in to Subject G-1 and she started howling as more tears dripped to the floor. G-1 began thrashing around and tugging violently at the chains, screaming and crying._

"_That protoform...is a copy of G-1's female carrier?" Hot Rod asked. "Why is G-1 so frightened of her?"_

"_You've no idea what damage her carriers have done to her," The Boss muttered._

"_You say that as if you pity G-1."_

"_Well, do you not also pity her?"_

_Hot Rod blinked. "Of course, I do. I'd pity anyone who's suffered as much as G-1."_

_The Boss shook his head. "My boy...no one has suffered as much as miss G-1." _

_Hot Rod's attention quickly went back to G-1 as she started crying and hiccupping. The protoform femme's hand was resting on her helm, and G-1 was trembling uncontrollably. He flinched as the protoform suddenly swung her hand across G-1's face, and G-1 began crying like a lost sparkling. "N-N-No m-m-more...M-Ma...P-Please...I'll be good...I-I-I p-prom-mise...N-No more..." she whimpered. _

_Driller snickered and looked to the protoform femme. "Do what you normally do, hon." And with that, a harsh glare appeared on the femme's face as she started smacking, clawing, pounding and kicking onto G-1's body. Hot Rod flinched as G-1's screaming and sobbing became immense, echoing throughout the lab room. He was tempted to run out, he couldn't bear to hear her suffering cries any longer._

"_NO! STOP IT! MA, STOP! PLEASE! I'M SORRY! I DIDN'T MEAN IT! PLEASE, NO MORE! MA!" G-1 howled between each blow she received and each sob she let out. "AAAGH! HELP ME! HELP ME, PLEASE! ONNY, HELP ME! ONNY, ONNY!"_

"_Onny?" Hot Rod repeated. "Who's Onny?"_

"_We do not quite know yet ourselves," The Boss replied, "but we have reason to believe it is someone from her past." The Boss then grinned. "Be ready."_

_Hot Rod gave him a questioning look. "Ready for what?"_

"_You're about to find out."_

_Driller called the femme off and laughed. "Aww, you want your precious Onny? Here's your Onny, right here!" Then he swung his fist across her face, causing her to wail a sob. She then hung her head and cried, whimpering that same word over and over again. "You can call and plea and cry for your dear Onny all you want. I can tell you right here, right now, that he ain't coming. Not now, nor ever. He's dead, G-1." _

_Hot Rod then realized how eerily silent the lab room became. Not even the sound of G-1's jagged breathing could be heard. He then began to wonder, had a trigger word just been said? Is G-1 entering another phase? He wanted to know who this Onny was. Was Onny the trigger word? He had so many questions for what would happen, but never expected what did happen._

"Liar..._"_

_Hot Rod shivered at that tone of voice—and it frightened him even more realizing it came from Subject G-1. Driller scoffed. "What did you just call me?"_

"_...You...are a _liar_..." G-1 hissed._

_Driller threw his head back and laughed. "What makes you think I am lying?! If your Onny really were still alive, he'd come and rescue you! Or maybe he simply never wanted to see that sorry face of yours and forgot all about you!"_

"LIAR!_" G-1 roared, causing Hot Rod, and even Driller, to take a step back. Driller laughed and looked up to The Boss, who grinned and gave him a nod._

"_I don't understand," Hot Rod said barely above a whisper. "Is Driller really lying?"_

"_Not even I know of this Onny's condition," The Boss said. "We do not know who he is or if he even exists, so we just do what we can to use it to our advantage, and toy with G-1 a little."_

"_But, you said G-1 doesn't respond well to lying. If you aren't sure if you are telling the truth or not, then why is G-1 getting so agitated?"_

"_My boy, it does not matter whether we are speaking the truth or not. It only matters if miss G-1 believes you are lying or simply does not want to listen. Nothing more. Nothing less." _

_Hot Rod focused on G-1 again and saw a major behavior change; only a moment ago she was crying and frightened. Now she looked like a wild savage ready to rip something apart. Her optic lens was still shrunk, and her breathing intensified. Her hands were curled into tight fists and were shaking. She had a look in her eye that said _'I'll kill you'_. Hot Rod feared for what would come next, so he excused himself and went into the hall._

"_You honestly believe that help will come for you?" Scorcher stepped up. "If any were to come, someone would have come for you long, long ago! You're stuck here!"_

"_Stop it...you're _lying_..." G-1 growled._

"_It's the truth," sneered Driller. "You've been yanked around your entire life so far. Why would anyone care for you now?"_

"_Shut up..."_

"_Why would anyone be looking such a freak?"_

"Shut **up**..._!"_

"_Why would anyone want to waste their time saving a _**murderous monster**_ like you?"_

"_Shut up!"_

"_You killed all those innocent people. You slaughtered them out of cold blood. You don't deserve rescue, you don't deserve empathy...All you deserve is the guilt that weighs on your shoulders, and the blood that stains your hands!"_

"**SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!**_"_

_Hot Rod was completely unaware of what happened in the lab after he left. All he knew was when he looked through the transparent sliding door, he saw that G-1 was no longer chained to the wall, the protoform femme was now a bloodied pile of scrap metal on the floor—and Scorcher and Driller were everywhere else._

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><p>~Gira's POV, the previous night~<p>

He's lying...

He has to be...

He's only messing with me because we always messed with each other...

Always messed around...

This is his idea of some cruel, sick joke...

He has to remember...

He must...

He, he can't just...forget...He can't...

He...He promised...He promised me...He _promised_!...

Keep it together...

Don't lose it...

You have to maintain...You nearly lost it back there...

Maintain...

Maintain...

If...If he truly doesn't remember me...then...

Does that mean he doesn't remember...her?

Have to be sure...I have to be certain...

But...how dare he...He promised...

It...It isn't fair...

He has no idea how long I've waited...

No idea...

You afthead...

You _liar_...

...I want my Onny...

~Optimus's POV~

When I awaken this morning as I sit up in my berth, my focus is immediately on Gira. I cannot help but recollect what happened last night. I cannot deny that it hurt a little to say those things to her, knowing they would hit her pretty hard. I can understand it is devastating to be told something you don't want to hear or to be true. I wish to check in on her, but I worry that she will not want to see me. I can also understand that.

I notice the base is somewhat quiet today. I know that the human children are in school at this hour. Standing up and stretching a little, I leave my quarters and enter the control room, where I find Ratchet at the monitor.

"Ratchet, where are the others?" I ask.

"Gone to take the kids to school, as usual," he replies, not removing his optics from the monitor, nor his hands from the keyboard.

I nod, then look down the west wing. "And anything from miss Gira?"

"I haven't seen her since last night, Optimus."

"I see...She must still be upset about last night."

"Can you blame her? She just had the truth shoved into her face," Ratchet grumbles.

Ratchet's sudden change of tone worries me, and I step forward. "Ratchet?"

He sighs and shakes his helm. "Never mind it. You can go on and check in with her, but I wouldn't be too surprised if she completely ignores you."

"I only wish to see if she is alright, Ratchet," I explain. "If she requests me to leave her alone, then I will respect her order and do so." With that, I head down the west wing towards Gira's quarters, approaching quietly in case she is still asleep. I listen in and hear not a sound. I do not hear breathing or any moving around. With the absence of noise I begin to worry and knock on the door lightly. "Gira?...Are you in there?" After a few moments I become impatient and press in a lock code to open the door. When it does, I stop myself before I make a single step. Strange marks are on the wall, and her berth is covered in dents of all sizes. Gira, herself, resides in a corner of her quarters. She appears asleep, but I can only see her patched eye. Just as I am about to enter, she slowly raises her head and I stop in my tracks again. I wait a moment to see if she does anything else.

"Sorry...I didn't hear you at the door," she says, slowly getting to her feet. Her gaze is to the floor, and her head hangs a little. I notice her right cheek plate is stained blue. Her expression is...expressionless.

"It's...It's alright," I say, taking a couple steps inward of the room. "Did you sleep well?" I cautiously watch Gira head for her berth, stopping by its side and resting her fingers on the edge. Her expression never changes, nor the position of her helm.

"I've had better nights...I've also had worse," she replies, speaking in the same solemn, quiet tone.

I sigh and take another few steps forward. "I apologize for upsetting you last night. I just felt that you needed to understand, and I must have explained too quickly. For that, I am sorry. I never intended to hurt you." Gira keeps her gaze fixed to the floor, and the tips of her fingers press against the edge of her berth.

"I know what hurt is," she says. "That wasn't anywhere near it. And, it's okay. I...overreacted."

"It wasn't your fault you overreacted. You were told something you didn't want to hear."

"Well, isn't that the truth," I hear Gira grumble. I sigh and also lower my gaze. It is difficult to tell if she has or hasn't truly forgiven me. Just as I am about to dismiss myself and leave, she speaks out. "Optimus..." she says my name, my current name for the first time, with difficulty, "...can I ask you a personal question?"

A personal question? I wonder what that could mean. "I suppose so," I say and remain where I am to hear the question.

"Do you...Do you remember Ariel?"

I blink for a moment. I know that name, and after a moment of pondering I manage to match the name with a face I've seen from my past. My spark aches instantly. "Yes...I remember her." I perk up when I hear the sound of a faint chuckle. After a brief moment of silence she asks me what I remember about Ariel. "She and I grew up together...we attended the same schools...we dated for a while...and then she died."

"What happened to her?"

"She was viciously murdered. I was told the news the morning after and was devastated." I raise my head up and look to Gira, who now has her head turned away from me. "Do you know what happened to her?"

"No." She answers subtly and quickly. "I don't."

I sigh. "I see...And, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?" Gira briefly shakes her head and I ask, "You said you were Alpha Trion's apprentice, correct? Do you know what became of him during the war?"

"I don't know that, either." She answers straightaway, leaving no time wasted to answer. When she does answer, there is no emotion in her voice. I find this a little strange. She had to have been chosen to be his apprentice for a reason, just like I was chosen to be an archivist for some reasons. They had to have had some connection. However, I can clearly see Gira is in no mood to be interrogated a second time.

"I understand," I say after a while and am about to take my leave.

"So long..."

I stop in my tracks for a third time and look to Gira. She now has her back to me. "So long I've waited...You don't know how long...And when I heard the rumor...I had never felt so happy...Until..."

I approach and kneel down beside her. "What rumor? Until what? What are you-?" I am silenced as Gira spins around and gives me a sharp slap across the face.

"You afthead!" she cries. I let the sting subside before looking to her again, and I see her right cheek soaked in tears. "It's not fair! How is it that you remember her and not me?! You promised...You promised me...!" She buries her face in her hands and starts to sob, her tears dripping off her chin to the floor.

"Gira...I..." I want to help her, but I am left with nothing to say, for nothing she says makes sense. But I know better than to say so.

"You're such an afthead!" she hollers and dashes past me, out of the room and further down the west wing, her sobs echoing throughout the hall.

I sigh, rubbing the part of my face her hand struck me, and that's when I truly notice the markings on her berth. The dents all look the same. One large dent, surrounded by five smaller dents, four of them closer together and the fifth further away. I realize that these are not just any dents.

These are _handprints_.

I am bewildered at this discovery. Had Gira pressed her hands against her berth and applied enough pressure to leave a mark? That has to take an incredible amount of force to leave behind a print. And when she struck me, it was as though Ratchet had hit me when he claims I've done something rash or irrational after an incursion with the Decepticons. For a small femme, her strength is not to be underestimated. I must remember that.

And what did I promise her?

~Bumblebee's POV~

Gira has been distant from us and quiet all morning, aside from the altercation we all heard a while ago before she raced down the hall crying. Bulkhead, Arcee and I had just returned when we saw it happen. Ratchet sighed and shook his helm, muttering something I couldn't understand, and when Optimus returned to the control room where we all were, Ratchet had given him the 'what did I tell you?' look.

We could all hear Gira's crying echoing and felt bad; at least, I assumed we all felt pity for her. I wanted to ask Optimus what happened while he and Gira conversed, but I know it is not my place to ask. That, and Optimus looked like he didn't feel like explaining.

"What's that on your face?" Arcee asked. Optimus said for us to never mind it, then he left to patrol the perimeter.

Now, aside from Gira, it is only Ratchet, Arcee, Bulkhead and I. Gira remains in her quarters, only emerging when she needs refueling. When she does, she walks by everyone, keeping her gaze elsewhere and not speaking a single word to any of us. A couple times, I follow her to the refuel lounge just to check in, and I find her seated at the table, messing with an Energon cube, but not consuming it. This time, when I follow her a third time, she starts to cry again. I frown to myself; I hate to see such a nice young femme so distraught.

"_Miss Gira?" _I say as I slowly step into the refuel lounge. She gasps, sits up quickly and looks frantically towards the entrance; seeing it's only me, she relaxes and turns away again.

"H-Hello, Bumblebee," she says, barely above a whisper. "What do you want?"

"_Just to see if you're doing okay. You've been rather distant and silent lately," _I tell her. I can easily point out her hidden awkward appearance, no doubt from hearing my voice. Understandable.

Gira sniffles and wipes her optic. "I'm fine, Bumblebee," she whimpers. "I am just dandy. Really. You don't need to worry about me."

"_I wish I could believe that," _I sigh. Then she turns to glare at me.

"What, you think I'm lying? You calling me a liar, Bumblebee?!" she raises her voice a little.

"_No, no, not at all," _I say quickly. _"I never said anything about you lying to me. I just have hard time believing you are really...okay. You've been crying all day, and it worries me. That's all."_

She sniffles again and wipes away a few tears. "I don't mean to cry so much...I-If it bothers you, I-I'll try to s-stop..."

"_Oh, no! It's not that your crying bothers me," _I say, trying to ease her a little. _"It's just that...well..." _I don't know what to say because I don't want to upset her any further. I don't enjoy just standing there and listening to her cries. I want to walk up to her and hug her, but I am afraid that might make the moment, as the humans say, awkward. _"Do you need a hug?" _I eventually ask.

She looks at me, her hands curled up against her cheek, rubbing away the constantly flowing tears, a little twinkle in her optic. There is a sparkling likeness to her that I find adorable and sweet, and when she nods, responding to my question, she squeaks like a lost youngling. I try not to rush so I don't frighten her, and I wrap my arms around her, embracing her not too loose, and not too tight.

She nuzzles me, a few of her tears dripping onto my armor, which I don't mind. "You're warm..." she mumbles, making me chuckle. She looks up at me again with a puzzled look on her face. "What's so funny?"

"_Nothing," _I say. _"You're just really cute." _She blushes a little and lowers her gaze. I lift her tear-stained chin with my finger. _"It's nothing to be embarrassed of, Gira. I think it's sweet." _

She stares at me for a moment then grasps my hand. "You've grown so much from the last time I saw you, Bumblebee...You've hardly changed in appearance," she tells me in a soft voice. "I can understand you not remembering me...you were only a sparkling when we met...but Pax—Optimus...I don't...understand how..." She hangs her head and whimpers, as though she's afraid to start crying and doesn't want me to see.

Now I understand why she is so upset. I guess Optimus did tell her the truth and now she is completely devastated by it. Sometimes the truth can be very hurtful, especially if you wish for it to not be true. To be this emotionally affected, they must've been close all those years ago. Which does raise the familiar question of how she is still so young if she's existed during Cybertron's Golden Age.

What is it about you that's so fascinating about you, Gira? What secrets do you hide?

~Ratchet's POV~

Not long after the two disappeared, Bumblebee and Gira both emerge from the refuel lounge. Thankfully, she has stopped crying. They step out together, Bumblebee having one arm around her and a hand resting on her shoulder, and Gira loosely embraces him with a sort of sleepy look in her eye.

At least, she has that look until she sees my tools and my work.

Letting go of Bumblebee and making a b-line straight to me, she stops by my desk and peers over. "Ooh, what're you making?" she asks like a curious youngling.

"I don't think he knows anymore," says Arcee from behind me as she makes her way to her quarters, and they all snicker.

I mock their laughter and turn to them. "Very funny," I say, then I turn to Gira. "It's nothing in particularly of use. I'm just tinkering with what I can find."

"Ooh! Can I help you?"

I scoff. "Puh-lease! As if you have any knowledge of what tools need to be used for what purpose, or how the tools work." She gives me a stern glare.

"What, you're saying I'm stupid?" she asks.

"_Did you just insult a femme, Ratchet?" _Bumblebee buzzes and begins to chortle, making high trilling and click sounds.

"Don't you have something better to do, Bumblebee?!" I snarl. When he eventually stops laughing, he announces he's going for a quick drive, transforms into vehicle mode and drives out through the tunnel.

I sigh and roll my eyes, then turn back toward the femme standing next to me. "No, Gira, I'm not saying that. I know you attended Iacon High back on Cybertron, but how may eons ago was that? You're bound to have forgotten."

"No! I never forget!"

"Doesn't matter. I don't need some femme messing with my stuff." I sense her giving me a sad, twinkling optic which the humans call the 'puppy-eyes'—or in Gira's case, eye—then I focus back on my work. "That has no effect on me, Gira. There is nothing that you can do that will make me change-" I stop in mid-sentence when I hear the sound of sniffling. Glancing back over my shoulder, I notice Gira is turned away, and her hands are balled up into fists, sitting against her cheek, and she's lightly sobbing and hiccupping. I sigh and shake my head. I know what she's doing: she's using her tears as a weapon to make me feel bad for her. Well, it doesn't work that easily on me. "Gira..."

"You're mean! You think I'm stupid! I'll tell Onny on you!" she cries. I stare at her, puzzled for a moment, then roll my optics again. "You're so mean! I only wanna help! Onnyyyyy!"

"Alright, alright!" I groan, and her crying stops. "You can help. Just stop crying, please!"

Gira whips around and beams a smile. "Great!" she exclaims and giggles.

I roll my eyes a third time while forcing myself not to smile. I warn her not to break anything, or else I'll break something of hers. She only giggles, probably thinking my warning is not much of a threat. I hear Bulkhead chuckling and I give him a glare over my shoulder. He shrugs and walks off to another part of the base.

"By the way," Gira peeps up from beside me, "I never got to actually thank you."

I give her another puzzled look. "Thank me? For what?" That's when she shyly raises her hand up to her face, and slowly taps a finger on her left optic patch while blushing a little. "Oh...I-I see...Well, you're welcome."

She then lowers her gaze and turns her head away. "You don't remember the day you gave it to me, do you?" Before I can say anything, she continues. "It's okay if you don't. I understand. You've probably seen many bots who needed patches over their eyes. What makes me any different?" I sigh to myself and lower my gaze as well, trying to ignore this annoying cramp in my spark.

~Bulkhead's POV~

I am thankful that Bumblebee has managed to calm Gira down. I don't think I can stand hearing her cries anymore. Not that it's a bother. I just don't like seeing such a young femme cry. It's too spark-breaking for me.

After their talk in the refuel lounge, Gira had begun to converse a little more with us. She wanted to help Ratchet with whatever he was doing, but he brushed her off at first. Then she did something that Miko would always do to get me to do whatever she wanted. Gira started with the puppy dog look, and when that didn't work, she began to cry. After a moment of that, Ratchet eventually gave in and allowed her to assist him. Even though she handed him the completely wrong tool whenever he asked for one, which made me laugh a little, since I had heard the whole thing from the end of the hall. I am sure she had done that on purpose.

Now, while I am tossing the lob ball up into the air and catching it with one hand while standing on one foot, I hear a tiny voice behind me.

"Bulkhead?"

I turn and see Gira standing below me. I catch the lob ball and rest it against my side as I face her. "Hey, Gira. What can I do for you?" I ask.

She lowers her gaze and locks her hands all shy-like, twiddling her fingers. "Um...I was wondering...c-could we play lob ball?"

I am a bit caught off guard when she asks me this. A femme Gira's size has never asked to do some lobbing with me—well, no femme at all has ever asked. I don't know what to say. I can't say no, thinking I may hurt her feelings; but, I also can't say yes, fearing she'll end up getting hurt if I throw the ball too hard. But now she's using the puppy look on me, and I feel myself giving in. I need an excuse. Now.

"U-Uh...I don't know, Gira," I stammer. "This ball is pretty heavy, and I don't want to hurt you. Besides, lobbing is more of a mech sport, don't you think?"

Gira's puppy eyed look vanishes and she puts her hand on her hip as she scowls. "So, you're saying I'm weak?"

"What? No! I..."

"That I'm too fragile? Incapable of handling myself?"

"No, no, not at all! What I mean is-"

"Then quit yapping and let's lob!"

I sigh and shake my head. I do admire her determination, but her stubbornness is another thing. I bounce the ball a little in my hand and asks if she's ready. When she gives me a firm nod, I lob the ball straight to her.

I am amazed that she actually catches it. "Whoa!" Never have I seen such a small, young femme handle such force from a lob—especially a lob from me! Sure she was knocked back a little, but she has still caught it! Gira smirks and exclaims, "Catch!" and she lobs it back to me. Not too high, not too low, but directly at me! I stare in awe as I grasp the ball. Letting out a laugh, I lob it back, and our game begins.

After a good twenty minutes of non-stop lobbing, I catch the ball and set it by my feet. "How...How are you capable of throwing a perfect lob?!" I ask, a little out of breath.

Gira smirks and folds her arms over her chest plate, clearly not have broken a single sweat. "See? I'm not weak. I am capable of handling myself," she says, pointing to herself, "and I may seem fragile, but underneath I am made of pure, impenetrable metal!"

"WOULD YOU TWO KEEP IT DOWN OVER THERE?!" we jump at the sound of Ratchet's squawking, then stare at each other and start giggling like a bunch of sparklings.

I must say, I'm widely impressed with Gira's skills. I wish Arcee could be that strong!

~Arcee's POV~

I chuckle at the sound of Ratchet's squawking while reading a few datapads on my berth, then I hear the sound of Bulkhead laughing, along with our mysterious guest, Gira. What could they possibly be doing that's so funny? Unless they're laughing at Ratchet. After a while of reading, I decide to recharge a little. I set my stack of datapads on the floor beside my berth, lay down in a comfortable position and close my optics.

"Arcee?"

I reopen my eyes at the sound of a timid voice. Sitting up, I see our little guest in my doorway, peering in.

"I'm sorry, were you sleeping?" she asks, stepping back a little.

I sigh and shake my head. "No, not yet," I say to her. A look of relief washes over Gira and she slowly enters my private quarters. "What do you want?" I ask.

Gira twiddles her fingers and stares at the floor, as if she is embarrassed to say what she came to me for. She's even blushing! "Well...I was just wondering...if you weren't busy, or anything...that maybe we could...hang out together?" I stare at her for a moment and then ask why. "Well...It's been a long time since I've seen another femme...and Pax has—uh, I mean: _Optimus_—has told me some interesting things about you."

Now it's my turn to blush. "He has?"

She nods. "Says you are an excellent fighter in the field. And...well...if you don't mind...I'd like to...Are you alright? You're turning pink."

I snap back to reality and rub at my cheeks. "It's nothing. I'm fine. What were you saying?"

"Oh...well, anyway, I was wondering if you don't mind sharing your experiences...with me..." she starts blushing again.

"You mean, like, during the War?" I ask, and she nods. Personally, that sounds a little ridiculous. She's coming to me to hear war stories? Why can't she have gone to Ratchet or Bulkhead, or Bumblebee? Even Optimus wouldn't mind sharing a tale or two...But then again, after hearing what happened last night, I can understand why she wouldn't go to him. Oh, great. Now she's giving me that puppy look with her one optic. "Fine," I say, trying not to sound like I'm grumbling.

"Really? You will?! Great!" Gira says, clasping her hands together and beaming a smile. Then she plops herself beside me, laying on her stomach and resting her chin in her hands, eagerly waiting for me to begin.

To be honest, I don't know where to start. When I was captured by Airachnid and was forced to watch my former partner Tailgate perish? When I met Cliffjumper and we escaped Starscream and Shockwave together, reaching Earth and joining Team Prime? The many treacherous battles I endured? The sacrifices I and my teammates have made? How we came so close to losing our leader? When Cliff had become a Terrorcon?

All those memories cone rushing back to me. Before I know it, I find myself in tears. I try to wipe then away before Gira can notice, but I'm not quick enough. "Oh, are you okay?" she asks with worry in her voice.

I sit up and nod, wiping away the tears with my knuckle. "Yeah...I'm good," I assure her, try to keep my voice calm. I turn my head away so she doesn't see my tears, but I feel her hand rest under my chin and lifts it back up towards her. I can see the concern in her single eye. Her face looks so much like a child's when it should be as worn out and beaten like Optimus's, since she claims to have known him since they were sparklings. So many things about her are confusing and mysterious. For one thing, her behavior lately, and even now.

I turn my head away. "Don't touch me," I tell her. Not a moment later, I feel Gira wrapping her arms around me, giving me a gentle squeeze. "I said, don't touch me!"

"Shut up," she snaps back. "You need this."

"No, I don't."

"I said, shut up."

Gira squeezes me a little tighter while resting her head on my shoulder. At first I'm angry with her for invading my personal space...but after a moment, I slowly start to welcome the hug and shudder a sigh. I don't want to admit that I did need a hug. I've always been so shy about explaining how I feel to the others, even to Optimus. I guess I am glad that there's another femme around.

"You can tell me those stories later," Gira says, as if she still expects me to pour my spark out to her. I notice a tint of guilt in her voice. Does she think that I'm upset because of her? Well, if so, she's not entirely wrong.

And yet, after I calm down some, I do pour my spark out.

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><p><strong>~~Chapter 6 be done! Yay! ^^ Chapter 7 will come around soon. Please be sure to read and review. Many thanks! ^^~~ <strong>


	7. Pt 1: Eerie

"**Forgotten"—A TFP Fan Fiction**

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><p><strong>Summary: A young, timid femme with an unnatural talent is found half-dead in an escape pod in the Florida swamps, is discovered by Team Prime and meets an Autobot she has not seen what felt like forever. But then she discovers he doesn't remember her at all. While she handles the unsettling facts that she is alone, she realizes the ones whom she escaped from are still after her, kidnap her and Team Prime, put them in cells and launch off into space. How will Team Prime get back to Earth? What is a young, timid femme willing to do for love, even if she's been forgotten by the Mech she's cared for with all her spark?<strong>

**Rated: M overall for violence, some future gore, and sexual content.**

_****This chapter is rated T for gore and some sensitive material****_

**Transformers characters © Hasbro**

**Gira © Me**

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><p><span><strong>PART ONE: MYSTERIOUS<strong>

**Chapter 7**

_Hot Rod was horrified beyond words. His optics wandered around the laboratory, absorbing all the gore; Energon covered the wall and floor, the limbs of Scorcher and Driller were spread out and slightly twitching. And not a single drop of Energon was on Subject G-1, who remained where she was on the floor, hugging her knees and crying. Though he didn't hear what happened, he could imagine what it would have sounded like: the snapping of circuits, the creaking of bending metal, the zapping and sparking of wires, the trickle and splatter of Energon slapping the wall._

_The Boss turned towards him with a sad, crooked smile on his face. "What a shame, Hot Rod. You missed the best part," he told him with a sigh. "Ah, well. Excuse me a moment." He headed down the stairs and headed towards G-1, who continued to cry where she sat on the Energon-stained floor. He revealed a metal pipe from the inside of his dark coat, got a firm grip on one of the ends—and then swung it down onto Subject G-1's helm. Hot Rod cringed at the yelp that escaped her mouth when the pipe struck her. Her crying stopped, and she fell onto her side and laid completely still. The Boss then knelt down, scooped G-1 up into his arms, and joined back up with Hot Rod. _

"_I thought you said you gave G-1 sedatives after each experiment," Hot Rod exclaimed, allowing a little of his anger to show._

_The Boss only smiled. "I did give her the sedative," he said smoothly, glancing down at the slumbering G-1. Hot Rod's optics were on the fresh dent in G-1's helm; he noticed several other dents were embedded either near or in the exact same place. Then, The Boss approached him. "Hot Rod, after every experimentation, I have miss G-1 cleaned. I want you to take her to the wash racks and have her washed up. Then, she will be delivered back to her cell, where she will be given her daily ration of Energon. Since miss G-1 has taken a bit of a liking to you, you will do just that. Understood?"_

_Hot Rod shifted his gaze constantly from The Boss to Subject G-1. After the carnage he had seen, knowing G-1 had caused it, he was now a bit anxious to be within a few feet of her, despite his pity for her. However, The Boss was _telling_ him to take G-1 to the wash racks, not asking. And he did not want to know what happened if he said no. "Yes, sir," he said softly, and he took G-1 into his arms, carrying her bridal style._

_The Boss grinned. "Excellent. And you don't need to worry. Whenever she awakens, she will be completely out of the phase and back to her new, old self. Now, best hurry along." Then he walked by them, disappearing down the hall._

_Hot Rod sighed and he, too, entered the hall, finding The Boss nowhere in sight. Slowly and quietly, he made his way down the way they had come towards the wash racks, keeping a firm grip on Subject G-1's battered body. Every minute or so, he glanced down at her just to confirm that she was unconscious; but she appeared like she was merely sleeping. If this was her new, old self, being quiet and calm, Hot Rod wondered what her old, old self was like. Was she the exact opposite? Was she kind? Was she sane? The more curious he became of her, the more Hot Rod needed to remind himself how dangerous Subject G-1 was. He only questioned how G-1 managed to create such carnage back in the laboratory. _

_After a long journey down the hall, Hot Rod arrived at the wash racks. Looking around, he saw other subjects getting hosed and scrubbed down. Some found it relaxing and remained completely still, others thought it painful and begged their washers to stop, trying to get away. A large cloud of mist covered each bathing subject that crept into the hall. As Hot Rod entered the wash racks, the washers all stared at him while they continued to work. Their focus went from him to the subject he carried. They eyed the both of them and watched Hot Rod head down the narrow, slippery hallway, searching for a vacant wash rack._

_One washer, with large breast plates, bulky arms and wide at the hips, stepped in his way and gestured to one. He cautiously stepped into it so he wouldn't risk slipping, injuring both himself and Subject G-1, and headed to the center of the cold-tiled room. The washer followed. "Place her on the floor," the washer said with a rough, scruffy voice. Hot Rod seemed reluctant because he didn't want G-1 to be cold, but he complied and laid her down on her side. "Now move, son," she demanded him, ushering him to move, and he crawled out of the way. _

_The washer pulled a hose down from the ceiling and turned the knob to the right. A light shower of warm fluid came out of the nozzle, and the washer sat G-1 up in her lap. She held the light spray close to Subject G-1's back and slowly swayed it side to side, up and down and in circles. The washer took a rag and dunked it into a sour-looking, soapy substance, squeezed it, and ran the rag along G-1's back, running bubbles and suds around and along the subject's armor, almost cradling her with her other arm._

_Hot Rod seemed surprised; this gruff-looking, wide-chassis femme washer was being very gentle with Subject G-1. Did they know one another? Did this washer pity G-1 like he did? Were they somehow, though rather unlikely, related? Then Hot Rod questioned if anyone else felt the same way he felt towards G-1, however small those chances were. _

_While the washer cleaned Subject G-1, he noticed several scars on her back, some thicker and longer than others. He wondered if those were from tests, or from punishments. His eyes followed the scars from the back of her neck to her lower back; he couldn't help but wonder what G-1 had done to deserve those marks._

_Then, the washer quickly turned toward him and glared. "Oi!" she barked. "Peepin' Bot! Show a little respect to a femme being washed! Would you want someone staring at you?!"_

"_N-No, ma'am," Hot Rod stammered and he quickly turned away, blushing. He heard the washer snort before she resumed cleaning G-1._

_After a while, the washer finished washing and drying Subject G-1 and called Hot Rod over. She lifted her up and told him to hold out his arms. "Not like that!" she spat when he held them out straight. "You lose a screw, stick-arms?!" Hot Rod blushed, a little embarrassed, and he bent his arms some. Then the washer placed G-1 into his hold and stepped aside, letting him pass. "Her reserves are near empty. Take her to the refuel lounge one floor down," the washer told him gruffly. _

"_I will," Hot Rod nodded and headed that way, pacing out of the wash racks, careful not to slip. He stepped into an elevator and traveled one level down, checking G-1 to be sure she was still sleeping. To his relief, she was, but it raised the question: how would he help feed her if she was knocked out? _

_He felt a shift in his arms and froze. Slowly glancing down, he saw a single, eerie optic staring back up at him._

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><p>~Gira's POV~<p>

After Arcee told me her stories, we've become a little close. She still seems to be a bit iffy towards me, like she has trouble trusting me. I can tell she's doing her best to hide her true feelings toward me, but it isn't working. I can understand that I am the newest one here, but I had thought everyone would have gotten used to me by now. I mean, I've become sort of used to being around them...I haven't had actual company in a long time.

Arcee then leaves the base through the tunnel, saying that she has to pick up her human companion, Jack, from school. Bumblebee and Bulkhead are not far behind her. I watch them go, then look to Ratchet, who is still in his lab. I don't know where the afthead is, but I don't really care. I'm mad at him right now. Thinking about it, I stand there folding my arms over my chest, pouting a little. It isn't fair. He remembers little miss perfect and not me? That's just downright stupid! How could he forget all the things we did together? How could he when he promised...? He _promised..._!

Such an _afthead_.

"Gira!"

I'm stirred from my thoughts when someone shouts my name. I turn to see Ratchet staring at me from his lab with a slight frown on his face. He isn't blinking. That creeps me out. But not as much as the possibility that he had seen me. "Are you alright?" he asks me.

I blink a little and nod. "Yes..."

Ratchet doesn't seem convinced and raises an optic ridge, like a parent when they sense their child telling a fib, and I feel just as vulnerable.

I fragging _hate_ feeling vulnerable.

~Ratchet's POV~

I enjoy my solitude and moment of peace in my laboratory for as long as I can, or at least while it lasts, before our young human allies arrive after their day of school. Optimus is out on patrol; Arcee, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee have gone to pick up Jack, Miko and Rafael; so, it is currently Gira and me for the moment. And sometime today, Agent Fowler will drop by for a report. I cannot imagine his reaction when he sees a new Cybertronian.

While in my lab, I hear a faint huff come from the main hangar. I don't need to turn around to know who it is. Peering into the hall, I see Gira standing in the main hangar; her head is hung low and she is embracing herself rather tightly. I've seen this before, and it lets me know something is not quite right. "Gira!" She jumps and looks to me, appearing rather uncomfortable. "Are you alright?" I ask.

She hardly blinks and gives a faint nod. "Yes," she replies quietly. I am not convinced, and I let her know with a look; I can tell she is hiding what she is feeling, and I can see it on her young face. Her gaze constantly shifts from me to somewhere else, her face plate starting to slightly cringe, until she stamps her foot at me. "Stop staring at me like that!" she yells, glaring at me, then turns away.

I roll my eyes and step out of my lab into the main hangar. "What is the matter now, Gira?" I ask, although I have a high hunch of what the problem is. She turns her head away from me and sniffles; it is not hard to tell when she is upset. I exhale deeply, shaking my head. "Is this about Optimus and what he said?" I notice her fingers digging into her arms as she tenses up; I knew that would be it. "Gira, I know it is hard to accept. I understand that so much has changed, so has Optimus. But, you need to understand that he is not the mech you knew. And, I am sorry he has no memory of you...I am so sorry."

She perks up and turns toward me. "Why are you sorry?" she asks.

I blink; now it is my turn to shift gazes. "I...You seem like a very sweet girl. I am sure you two would be great friends." Her expression softens as her single optic glances at her feet, keeping her back to me, loosely folding her hands together and letting her shoulders slump.

"It's not fair," she mumbles with a voice of a youngling.

"Life is never fair," I say.

Before I can continue, she adds on, her tone dropping a little. "I waited...and waited...and _waited_...but still, I suffered...None of you understand what's happened to me..."

I frown. "Well, that wouldn't be a problem if you would just tell us what you know."

"What gives you the right to know anything?" she asks, her tone much deeper than it was a moment ago.

I'm stunned by her words and glare. "Now hold on there just a minute, you..." I stop when she turns her head to me; her optic lens is slightly shrunk. I remember the look in her eye and on her face that night we interrogated her. She has almost that same look. "Gira?" She continues to stare, her optic ridge bent in a frown. Then she slowly walks by me down the hall to her quarters, shutting the door.

I watch her go until she disappears in her given quarters. That is very strange; a moment ago, she was her whiny, stubborn self, and now she has become...eerie.

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><p><strong>AN: I know this chapter is a little short, but I'm trying to make more chapters :/ But please be sure to read and review. Many thanks! ^^ ~~**


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